PS 3507 




.0745 




S3 
1910 


^URAL COMEDY DRAMA IN 


Copy 


1 


UR ACTS ,-. .-. .. .-. .-. 




"Sackett's Corner Folks'' 




—OR- 




"The Prodigal Brother" 




-BY- 




HARRY M. DOTY, 




CHATHAM, N.Y. 




PRICE 25 CENTS A COPY 



NOTE— ERROR ON PAGE 15. 



On page 15 an error was made in 
Deacon Todd's first speech when mak- 
ing up the forms of this hook. The 
line now reads: "If he does, he is a 
higger fool than I ever took him to 
be." This line appears correctly two 
speeches helow. The first line of Dea- 
con's first speech on this page should 
read: "Beats all, don't it, how these 
hero fellers what skip" etc. 



Sackett's Corner Folks 

-OR- 

The Prodigal Brother 

Rural Drama in Four Acts 

By Harry M, Doty 
Author of the Rural Comedy, ''In Old New England" 



AMATEUR PRODUCTION FREE 

Professional or Traveling Companies are forbidden^the use 
• of this play, or any part of it without the writter. 
consent of the Author 



Pmblished by J. W. Darrow and H. M. Doty 
Chatham, N. Y. 



Price 25 Cents Per Copy 



Copyright 1910 
Harry M. Doty 
Chatham, N. Y. 



?33Sor 
.074-5 53 



CAST OF CHARACTERS 

Nathaniel Pettigrew, ''Uucle Xat" one of Xalure 's tivobiemon, 
Avho faces a perplexity but emerges triumphant. 

Elijah Pettigrew, the prodigal brother, who, in his youEo-^r days, 
Avasn't what he might have been. 

Ralph Pettigrew, "Uncle Xat's" son, who makes a saoiince but 
loses nothing by it. 

Bildad Teeter, P. M., who ''keeps" the village store, ''i-::is" the 
postoflfice and believes in "paying back a joke right prompt." 

Deacon Todd, who is a master hand at dominoes and like? to know 
what's going on. 

Adnah Rogers, the village blacksmith, who can shoe hors-^s. make 
and mend wagons, but who isn't OA'er anxious to do it. 

Melancthon Satterlee, whose chief aim in life is to liv-? without 
undue exertion. 

Jim Bentley, who carries the mail, distributes gossii"* &:id is in- 
clined to stretch the truth "just a leetle". 

Eb. Gowdy, who "ain't just right in his head" and "lierefore 
cuts some peculiar capers. 

Sime Flanders, "Uncle Nat's" hired man, who believes la persis- 
tence but finds the course of true love isn't always smooth. 

Master Willie Williams Avith an old head on young shoulders. He 
believes in being well paid for valuable information. 

Mrs. Pettigrew, "Uncle Xat's" Avife, a true helpmate aa-i. a most 
excellent advisor. 

Huldy Haskins, who isn't in a marrying mood until the show is 
nearly over. 

Arathusa Gwendoline Fitzgibbons, who is someAvhat g":3by and 
Avho Avants someone to share her lot. 

Submit Tewksbury, Avho says what she thinks and who thinks a 
good deal. She gets her " come-appance. " 

Little Mary Williams, a fluent listener but not much of :>. talker. 



CCLD 23525 



SYNOPSIS. 

A«'T T, Scene: Store and postoffice ^t Sackett's Corners. — 
J'laying riominoes. — "There ain't goin ' to be no scrap,'' — Bildad 
and SubiJiit. Tamperiiig with the mails. — Submit 's postal. — Submit 
in hi^h oadgeon. — "I hain't on the last lap yet." — Arrival of the 
mail. — vVfnderful corn and more wonderful pumpkins. — "If that 
.liorse of yours can go as fast as you kin lie, he'll get to the end 
of the :(",jre afore he starts.'' — "Don't you wish we had some of 
tliem pumpkins all made into pie?" — A load of turnips for the 
(•(111 or. — Lucal news, from the Claytown Center Clarion. — "Noses 
like hiss' n ain't on the market any more." — "Mary Ann Green 
is hein' sparked red hot." — The quilting party at Cy Hoskins'. — 
"I ain't seen her but I'll bet it's improved her looks." — Susie 
A\'liiti a •■.-:•■ gives up takin' lessons on the melodeon. — The demise 
of Abe Hines. — "Loss fully covered by insurance." — Some spir- 
ited bid(l:Bg. — AVillie Williams "tells on" Jim Bentley. — Arrival 
of " I'ljcie Nat." — Some dry weather stories. — The letter with the 
new fajjried stamp. — The message from Elijah. — After twenty- 
years. — ]v]iiah in hard luck and wants to come back. — The per- 
plexity (I "Uncle Nat." — Huldy makes a few pointed remarks. — 
*M WU2 lirought up to believe in repentance and forgiveness."— 
"dot fi -i'-ngue like a razor, hain't she?" — "And it ain't one o' 
them s:,i<-.y razors, nuther. " — Mel's solicitude for Huldy. — "Been 
a courrjij ■ her for five years but don't seem to be gifting along 
none." — The strange case of Eb Growdy. — "Thought he was a 
settin' i^n." — "Hangin' onto the pump for dear life." — Bildad 
and A(i!u:i,h get "the rigs" on each other. — "I like to pay a joke 
back rii-tt prompt." — The dinner horn. — "Do we eat to live or 
live Xr. -?,t?" 

ACT II. Scene: Sitting room in "Uncle Nat's" home. — 
"Woman's work. — "Mebbe they'A^e all got hired girls." — "Uncle 
Nat" fcrgets the "things from the store." — The letter from 
Mexico. — "He left us just when we needed him most." — Eeading 
the lett€". — "Didn't want no stain on the name of Pettigrew. " — 
Parson Bemiss' sermon and its effect upon "Uncle Nat." — Out 
to the bi-in to think it over. — Huldy 's admirers. — "I don't care 
a snap oi my finger for either of 'em." — "He'll forgive him and 



4 SACKETT'S COEXER FOLKS 

tell him to come.'" — Mel and Huldy. — ''I'll bet Sime Flanders has 
been pesierin you again." — "A sour, crabbid, dried-up old wid- 
derer. ' ' — Sime and Huldy. — ' ' That homely old bach. ' ' — The ' ' sec- 
ond-hand husband.'"' — Sime hears Mel's soliloquy. — The "pie-faced 
jeliy fish ■ ■ and the ''spindle-shanked hyena." — Bloodshed averted. 
— "1 guess I'll tell Lije to come on." — Ralph's sacrifice. — The 
letter to Elijah. — "Seal 'er wp and I'll go and drop it in the mail 
box. 

ACT III. Scene same as Act 11. (Two months are supposed 
to have elapsed since Act II during which time Elijah Pettigrew 
and Aiarhusa Gwendoline Fitzgibbons have arrived at "Uncle 
;Xate*s"" home). Arathusa "gushes''. — The shattered j^aradise. — 
Eb. and the imaginary horse. — I'll bet my suspenders on it." — 
■^'A lunatic and violent, too.'' — "Uncle Nat" quiets Arathusa 's 
fears. — Changing Eb 's mind. — "Dinner? That's so." — The im- 
provement in Elijah. — The pancake race. — "If you don't git your 
reward on the other side, there just ain't no truth in scripter. '' 
■ — Submit on an errand of mercy and help. — She encourages (f) 
Flijah. — "Course, if you've got to go, the Corner is as good a 
place as any to be lajd away in." — "Uncle Xat's" contribution. 
— Lon Jeffers poverty stricken. — "Never could seem to get on." 
— Mel tises Eb. in his effort to win Huld}'. — "If this scheme works 
I'll soon have Sime Flanders cut out. — Eb. and the imaginary 
v^dfe. — V/eeding onions. — "It worked like a charm. I've got her 
thinkin"!" — Sime 's big idea. — Eb. again pressed into service. — 
Another imaginary wife. — "I'm the laziest critter on earth." — 
The scheme worked fine. — The "tech" of rheumatism. — "I've got 
the inside track now, all right." — Arathusa wants a husband to 
share her lot. — Mel an eavesdropper.— "Here is where Mel Satter- 
lee gits acquainted with the owner of the aforesaid lot." — Mel 
and Arathusa. — "You country men are so kind and considerate." 
— "Arathusa Gwendoline Fitzgibbons." — "Melancthon Hezekiah 
Satteriee. ■ ■ — Mel proposes. — Accepted. — "A $25,000 lot and it's 
mine. ' ' — • ' My hunk of maple sugar. ' ' — ' ' My onliest own. ' ' — Keep- 
ing it quiet. — Eb. on the job. — He tries his hand at love making 
with the aid of the churn. — "Ain't a bad looker, nuther. " — "My 
can of maple syrup. ' ' — Sime and Huldy. — Huldy surrenders. — Eb. 
in the right place at the wrong time. — A drop in churns. 

ACT lA'. Scene same as Act III. The mysterious letter. — 
Help for Lon Jeffers. — The unknown friend. — Mrs. Pettigrew 's 
curiosity. — "Hope my snorin' won't disturb you." — Eb. lets the 
cat out of the bag. — Bread and milk for Eb. — "Have any spe- 
cialists ever ezamiiied himf — ^Mel owns up. — His conference 
with "Uncle Nat.'' — "For obtaining a husband under false pre- 



SACKETT'S CORNER FOLKS 5 

tenses. •—Arathusa's 'Mot".— ''If either of you has been 'took 
in' I fi^'ger it's her."— "Uncle Nat's" advice.— The tempest 
averted.— Mel 's change of mind.— Eb. in a chicken mood.— How 
Deacon Todd and Jim Bentlev didn't get the hundred.— The mys- 
terious i-iend pays the dominie's back salary.— " Uncle Nat" 
gets one ci the mysterious missives.— "These here old specs must 
be playri:' me a "trick. "—A $20-00 bank account.— Ralph wants 
to be piEciied.- More mystery.— Ralph 's college course assured.— 
Mrs. Pettigrew "clean beat ".—Woman 's curiosity.— " Whoever 
'tis that's doin' this has got my religion to a T. "— Arathusa, 
Nat and Elijah.— Arathusa worried.— More confessions.— "I fear 
he don'T love me."— More advice.- Another tangle straightened. 
—Si me "r, rings more news.— The strange doctor.— The operation 
oi^ £b.— • Cut a hole in his head and took out a piece of bone."— 
Eb. as iood as new. — Physician sent by the unknown friend. — 
Curiosity at fever heat.— "I'd give my best heifer to know who 
?tis. "— -And I'd throw in my best reseet for gingerbread."— 
Sime's tLgagement.— Congratulations.— Huldy "owns up."— The 
identity of the mysterious friend revealed.— A lucky streak in 
mininc;.- improvements on the farm.— The home for Sime and 
H^ilciv — Mrs. Pettigrew to have her hired girl.— Making amends. 



NOTE. 



Thf arrangement of the stage to represent a village store in 
the fivsz act is not difficult. The postoffice boxes may easily be 
represented by obtaining at any grocery store one or more. of the 
wooden "boxes in which are shipped canned and bottled goods and 
which hje divided into square or oblong compartments. Remove 
both t<>p and bottom of the box, place a glass over one side, paint 
numbers on the glass to represent box numbers, place the boxes 
on one ti^d of the counter and fill with letters, postals and papers. 
A ccanter which has been discarded will be easy to find in al- 
most* acT village. The arranging of the shelving back of this 
counter needs no direction. Any grocer will loan a sufficient quau- 
titv of canned goods to make a showing. 

Other furnishings may include a set of old-fashioned counter 
scales, a small show case, a barrel containing a half dozen brooms, 
two or three flour barrels, pickle and mackerel kegs, a few soap 
boxes, some hard-bottomed chairs, an old cofeee mill, if one can 
be borrowed, a box containing a few pairs of boots and shoes. 
Manv munufacturers furnish dealers ' with empty paper boxes, 
such'a.i' their goods are placed in, for advertising purposes. These 



« SACKETT'S CORNER FOLKS 

.can also be borrowed from almost any store. Posters, placards 
.-and adA-ertisemeiits of various lands, luing on the walls, add real- 
asm to trie scene. 

The furnishings of the store can be carried to any extent de- 
rsired, depending solely upon the stage room available. 

In this act all entrances and exits may be made at one 
point, representing the street door of the grocery. The counter 
■should be placed at the extreme left or extreme right of the stage. 
If the coffee mill mentioned above can be obtained, a pleasing and 
realistic effect is obtained if, as the curtain rises, Bildad is dis- 
covered grinding coffee. Deacon and Adnah play dominoes in si- 
lence until the grinding is completed and Bildad has placed the 
ground coffee in a bag, tied it with a string and placed it on the 
•counter. 



"Sackett's Corner Folks" 



Act I 

Seeue: Store and postoffice at Sackett's Corner. Bildad 
Teeter, postmaster, grinding coffee or sitting in front of counter, 
reading paper. Deacon Todd and Adnali Eogers finishing game of 
dominoes; Melancthon Satterlee looking on. Deacon remarks 
*' Domino"; gathers up dominoes and board and says: 

Deacon — Shucks, Adnah, it hain't no use fer you to try to 
beat me i:>layin' dominoes. That makes four games out of five. I 
tell you I know more about that game than the man what in- 
vented it. 

Adnah — You do, hey? Then all I've got to say is that the 
feller laiows mighty little about it. 

Deacon — There, Adnah, don't take it to heart. I'll let you 
win next time. 

Adnah — You will, will ye? I've got one of them souvneer 
postage cards with a pikter on it showin' you lettin ' sumbody 
git anything you kin git fer yourself. I'm goin' to skunk ye 
next time, skunk ye, do you understand? 

Bildad — Hold on boys, hold on, the first thing I know you 
two young fellers will have your hands in each other's hair and 
you ain't either of you got no more'n 3'ou want. More "n that 
Uncle Sam won 't stand fer no fights in the postoffice. 

Mel. — No danger, Bildad. There ain't goin' to be no scrap. 
Couldn't nuther of 'em lick anything bigger 'n a postage stamp. 
This here sass afterward is a part of the game with 'em. 

(Enter Submit Tewksbury, 1. u. e.) 

Submit — Mornin', Bildad, any mail fer me? 

Bildad — Y^ep, the Claytown Center Clarion and a postal from 
Chicago. (Rises, goes behind case and returns, reading postal). 
This here postal is from Fake & Soakem, the greatest mail order 
house in the world. It says that the oilcloth and gingham has 
been shipped, that they're out of the complexion beautifier you 
ordered and that they can't send you that hair switch until you 
send 'em a bigger sample of hair, (Men all laugh.) 

Submit — (Indignantlv snatching postal and paper). The next 



8 SACKETT'S CORNER FOLKS 

time I git a postal, Bildacl Teeter, I'll thank you not ic^ read it. 
I'll read it myself. My correspondence ain't none of y^ur busi- 
ness. I've got a great mind to report you to the goveracnent fer 
tamiDerin' with the mails. 

Bildad — Now hear her talk. That's what I git fer iryin' to 
be accommodatin'. I was jest reedin' it to you becuz I thought 
prob 'ly you 'd forgot your specs. 

Submit — Forgot my specs! I'll give you to understand, Bil- 
dad Teeter, that I don't need 'em. I hain't on the la.st lap yet. 

Bildad — No, ner I don't bleev you've ever ben on '.ae fust 
one. Leastwise I never hearn none of the hojs say so. 

Submit — Bildad Teeter, you're an impudent, insuitiu' old 
huss}'. You ain't fit to be postmaster. And I ain't the only one 
what says so, nuther. (Exits indignantly 1. u. e.) 

Mel. — Guess you give her her come-uppance that time, Bildad. 

Bildad — Well it does me good to show up them kind of folks 
what sends away fer everything they want. Her dad, like a lot 
of others, sends to them mail order houses and the stuff they git 
out there they pay cash in advance fer while what they git of me 
they have charged. If I hadn't been tryin' to collect fer a year 
from Submit 's father fer caliker fer her a dress, I wouldn 't say 
nothin '. I just want her to know that I know what t'li^^y done 
with the money they owe me. 

Adnah — What you say is right, Bildad, but where did you 
git that last wagon you bought? You didn't git it froaa. ate. 

Bildad — Why, no, er — you, see — that is — 

AdnaJi — Yes, I see. Shoe's kinder on 'tother foot now, ain't it? 

Jim Bentley — (Heard outside). Say boy, you just stand by 
that colt a minute, Vv^ill you while I run in with the mail. It'll 
save tyin ', (Enter Jim, carrying mail sack which he hands to 
Bildad). Hello, Bildad. l^ou can't say I ain't on time this morn- 
in'. Got the colt on the job, and here I am fifteen minutes ahead 
of time and the train was late down to Jonesville, too. 

(Bildad goes behind case and cancels stamps after which he 
distributes the mail). 

Mel. — Shouldn't think a mail route is just the place fer a colt, 
Jim. 

Jim — AVell, p'raps not, but he's got to be broke in s}3:ie time 
so's to give the old mare a rest and it might as well c-yvae fust 
as last. 

(Villagers, silent parts, enter, 1. u. e,, and stand or sit. wait- 
ing for the mail and when mail is distributed, get letters or pa- 
pers and exit. There should be three or four of these characters.) 

(Willie Williams and his little sister enter, 1. u, e., and sit 



SACKETT'S CORXER FOLKS 9 

with mouths opeU; listening to the conversation of Deacon, Mel. 
and Adnah.) 

Deacon — I hear that new feller what bought the Whipple 
place, between here and Jonesville, has got us all skunked on corn 
this year. 

Jim — Yessir. got the finest piece anywhere in these parts. You 
know he went in big for fertilizer. Everybody said he was plumb 
nigh crazy but they've changed their tunes since they saw that 
crop. H^ give me a sample of that fertilizer, 'long 'bout plantin' 
time and wanted me to try it. Said the yield would surprise me. 
and, sav, it sure did. Used that fertilizer in half a dozen hills 
and stuck a stick in each so's I would know 'em. Went out to 
look at it yesterday and the corn in them hills is so gosh dinged 
tall, I'll have to use ladders to git the ears. It won't take more'n 
half a dozen to fill a bushel basket, nuther. And that ain't all; 
where I put that fertilizer it growed a dozen ears on each stalk 
and I'll Le dad busted if there hain't a half a dozen ears on each 
of them sticks I used to mark the hills with. 

Aduali — Say, Jim, if that there colt of your'n can git over the 
road as fast as you kin lie, he'll go so rapid he'll git to the end 
of the loute before he starts. 

Mel. — Oh, I dunno^ Adnah. I'm inclined to believe Jim's tell- 
in' the gospel truth 'bout that corn 'cause I once saw that same 
sort o' fertilizer grow bunkum punkins on a lot that wouldn't 
grow white beans before. Never saw punkins grow like 'em. 
'Twant BO use to try loadin' 'em on a wagon. Couldn't do it. 
Had to use stun boats to git 'em to the barn. And that wan't 
all of it. They was so pesky big w^e had to split 'em into quar- 
ters to git 'em through the barn doors. 

Deacon — Yessir, that 's right. That 's the fall my tenant house 
burned. Didn't have time to build another before cold weather 
set in so I just hooked my yoke of oxen onto one of them pun- 
kins, dragged it over to my place, cut doors and winders in it 
and my hired man and his family lived there all winter just as 
cozy as could be. 

Willie — Say, Sis, don't you wish we had one of them punkins 
up to our house, all made into pie? 
(Sister nods head vigorously.) 

Bildad — Say, Mel, here's your copy of the Clarion. You might 
like to look it over while I finish sortin' this here mail. (Looks 
at paper. "i I see the date on your label says October 1896. 'Bout 
time you took the editor another load of wood. 

Mel. — Nope, goin' to take him turnips next time. It's less 
trouble sittin' 'em. (Opens paper and begins to read in silence.) 



10 



SACKETT'S CORNEE FOLKS 



Deacon-Read ^er out loud, Md. Don't vou spcse me and 
Adnah and Jim wants to know what's goin' on? 

Mel.— AU right. Here she goes. (Reads.) '^Epli. Foster went 
to go down cellar to draw a pail of cider Tuesday. He slipped 
and went end over end and lit on the pail, squshin' it flatter n 
a pancake and skinnin " his nose. He'll have to buy a new one.'' 

DeacGii — Xew pail or neM- nose'? 

U Mel. PaiJ. I guess becuz noses like hissen ain't on the market 
iiny more. 

Mel. — (Reads). ''Cy Hoskins' wife had another quiltin' party 
,by a feller from Hackettstown. Folks think thev ']] make a hitch 
<of it." 

' Adnah — I'll bet Marry Ann had that put in the paper to 
liring Al Johnson to time, Ben a courtin ' of her fer five years and 
never could git up spunk enough to ast her to be hissen. 

Jim — Weil, if that don't fetch him, nothin' will. 

Mel — (Reads). "Mrs. Jane Sawyer hit herself a awful crack 
in the craner of the haymow while huntin' eggs. She's some bet- 
ter now but limps considerable yet." 

Adnah — It don't sar whetlier she got any eggs or not, does it? 

Mel.— Xo. 

Adnah — That's the way with that paper. Xever tells tlie 
whole srorv. 

Mel. — (Reads). " C'y Hoskins' wife had another quilt in party 
last week. She's got her neighbors to make her seven quilts so 
far this year and all she gives 'em is some crackers and a cup of 
tea. Tlierc's a good deal of talk about it.'' 

Jim — Yes. and 'twas darned cheap tea, too. She sent by me 
fer to git it down to Hackettstown. 

Mel. — (Reads), "Amelia Tucker has got the newralgy in her 
face so that it don't look like her face at all," 

Jim — 1 hain t seen her but I'll bet it has improved her looks, 

Adnah — Tut, tut, Jim. Musu't talk like that about her even 
if she .lid give you the mitten once. 

Mel. — cReads). "Jane Ilinsley ain't enjoyin' as poor health 
as usual this week.'' 

Deacon — Well, that's too bad. Jane hain't well T\nless she's 
sick vv.-o-tliirds of the time. 

Mel — (Reads), "Susie AVhittaker has give up taldn' lessons 
01! tlie melodeon. it makes her eyes ache so to study the notes." 

Adnah — I'll bet the neighbors is glad of it. 

Mel. — Well. I swan. Abe Hines over to the Crcs3 Roads is dead. 

Deacon — Xo! 



SACKETT'S CORNER FOLKS ^ 11 

Mel, — Yes, « * 

Adnah — What does it say about it? 

MeL — ^(Reads). ''Abram Hines, one of the Cross Roads ^ most 
firomiiieiat ;aiid respected citizens died yistiddy after bein ' sick fer' 
some tisM« with several diseases. Loss fully covered by insur- 
ance. • ' 

Deacon^TJiey didn't put a very high figger on him. did they?" 
His p©iicy wan 't only fer $250. 

Willie — Say Mr. Teeter, is they any mail fer us and the Smiths 
and Johnsons and Davises and — and — (thinks) and the Greens?' 
And Ma wants a pint o' 'lasses in that pail. (Puts pail on counter) 
(Bildad hands mail to Willie). (Willie turns to sister). Say, Sis^. 
do you want some candy? (Sister nods head.) Well, I ain't got no - 
money but I'm goin' to have some in a minute. (To Jim). Say ■ 
Jim, you ain 't paid me that five cents you promised me and if I ' 
d'On't git it right away, I'm goin' to tell. 

Jim — I ain't got it today, W^illie. I'll pay you tomorrow. 

Bildad — Does Jim owe you, Willie? 

Willie — Yes, he does, and if he don't pay, I'm goin' to telL 

Bildad — Well, Jim, I guess here's where I even up with yoit 
fer puttin' that snake in the mail bag. Willie, you tell what it 
is and I'll give you ten cents. 

Jim — Willie, you keep still and tomorrow I'll give you fifteen- 
cents, and bring you a pint of peanuts. 

Bildad — You tell now and I'll give you twenty ceuts and a- 
quarr of peanuts. 

Jim — Twenty-five cents. 

Bildad — Thirty cents. 

Jim — Thirty-five cents. 

Bildad — Forty cents. 

Jim — Forty-five cents and bring it tomorrow. 

Willie^ — Nope. Got to have it now. 

Jim- — Forty-five is all I've got. 

Bildad — Fifty cents and the peanuts, Willie, 

Jim — Willie, if you open that mouth of yours, I'll larrup you^^ 
within an inch of your life. 

(Willie takes sister aside and says: "Sis, you take these 
things and start on home because I'm goin' to tell and then I'll 
have to run like a — a — a — elephant. (Places mail in girl's arms^^ 
and gives her pail). (To Teeter). All right, Mr. Teeter, give me 
the fifty, the peanuts and some candy fer me and Sis and I'll telL 
(Bildad gives money, candy and peanuts). 

Jim — If you do, you know what's comin' to you, 

(Willie gives stick of candy t« sister and she exits. Tries to' 



12 SACKETT'S CORNER FOLKS 

bite other stick. Takes it from mouth and examines i:.. . Gosh, 
Mr. Teeter, how long you had this candy? (Goes to esit. Jim 
shakes fist at him). Say, Mr. Teeter, what I was goia " -^o tell 
was that I caught Jim kissin' my big sister, Kate, the other 
night. (All laugh and Jim starts for Willie who makes hasty 
exit.) 

Jim — 'Tain 't no such thing, Bildad, and he knows i:. I wan 't 
nowheres near the house. 

Bildad — Never mind the explainiu ', Jim; nobody expects 
you to admit it. You're human, like the rest of us, and it's 
mighty embarrassin ', sometimes, to be caught. I guess we'll call 
it even on that snake joke if it did cost me fifty ceats. (Jim 
shoulders mail sack which Bildad hands him and exits .. u. e.) 
(Enter Nathaniel Petti grew 1. u. e.) 

Nat — Good mornin' everybod}^ 

All — Good mornin ' Nat. 

Nat — Terrible dry, ain't it? 

Deacon — Should say it wuz. Been drivin' my cow.s to the big 
creek every day now fer three weeks. Not a drop of wa:eT in the 
barnyard trough and hardly enough in the spring fer the wimmen 
folks to wash the dishes with. Ain't seen it so dry li twenty 
years. 

Nat — Guess that's right, deacon. Dropped our ©Id iral^e into 
a washtub this mornin' and it's so long since he had a ^aance to 
swim that he most drowned. He's clean, plumb f ergot y.aw to pad- 
dle. (All laugh.) 

Mel — Say, Nat, guess you must be on probation fee member- 
ship in the Marynias club, ain't ye? 

Nat — Guess you mean the Ananias club, don 't ye * No, I 
hain't. I never was much of a jiner. 

Bildad — ^Say, Nat, it's a wonder them wimmen? righters 
hain't kicked afore this becuz one of them female namevi is hooked 
onto tbat clul^ what stands fer stompin' the truth under foot but 
I spoze they'll git around to it when there hain't ait'iin' else 
to kick about. 

Nat — Mebbe so, Bildad, but if I read it straight, t-iiey've got 
kickin' materia! enough stored away to last 'em some time yet. 
Wait 'til they git to votin ', then we '11 have 'em hoMici ' all the 
offices. Just think of Abbie Smithers as poundmistre*5, draggin * 
Sike Dusenbury's cow off to the pound, Mandy Gookins a.« deacon- 
ess, passin' the contribution box, Melissy Tucker as justice of the 
peace, a fiinin ' Dave Green boy fer pullin ' the pickets off some- 
body 's fence, and Submit Tewksbury as postmistress. How would 
that suit you, Bildad? 



SACKETT'S COENER FOLKS 13 

Bildad — ^Xot monstrous well, Nat, but I guess it would suit 
Submit all right, eonsiderin' that she allowed, a few minutes 
afore vou come in, that there ought to be a change here, 

Nat — What you been doin' now, readin' her postal cards aginf 
Speakia' «of postal cards, Bildad, just toss out my mail if there is^ 
any. 

(Bildad hands out several papers and two or three letters.)' 

Nat — Well, I guess I ought ter have brought a market basket, 
along. 

(Takes mail and puts it in his pocket with the exception of 
one letter which he examines carefully.) 

Na^t — Say, Bildad, What's this, one o' them new fangledv 
stamps I've been readiu' about? 

Bildad — 1 dunuo, Nat.. I noticed it when it come in, 

(All crowd around to examine stamp. Deacon puts on glasses, 
takes letter and looks at it closely,) 

Deacon — That hain't no United States stamp. It says suthin' 
'bout Mexico on it. 

Nat — (Taking letter.) That's so. And the postmark says 
Mexico, too. I wonder who in creation it's from. I don't know 
nobody down there. I'll bet a Dominique hen somebody wants to 
sell me a gold mine or suthin '. Can 't wait until I get home. Guess 
111 have to rip 'er open right here. (Opens letter with jack-knife 
and reads in silence.) Good thing fer me that none of you fel- 
lers didn't bet or I'd been out a hen. Who do you spoze it's fromf 
But, pshaw, it hain't no use guessin' fer you couldn't guess it in- 
a year. It's from Lije. 

Adnah — What, not from Lije Pettigrew? 

Nat — Yessir, from Lije Pettigrew. 

Mel — And everybody thought he died years ago. 

Nat — I didn 't know whether he was dead or alive. Hain 'fr 
seen hide ner hair of him nor heard a thing from him since he 
he went away twenty yeai-s ago this month. 

Deacon — Jimminetty, how time does fly. It don 't seem as long 
ago as that. 

Nat — No, it sure don't. 

Bildad — I don't wont to be curious, Nat, but what does Lije 
have to say fer himself? 

Nat — Well, I hain't really sensed it all yet but it. kinder 
looks as jf he ain't stfuck it very rich and wants to come back. 
Says he's clean tuckered out. Wants to know if I'll take bim in* 
an4 let bygones be bygones. 

Adnah— /Be you goin ' tc do it? i don't spoze you be after 



14 SACKETT'S COKNER FOLKS 

the wa}^ he went away and left you when you was hs.^m' h?ird 
work to make ends meet. 

Nat — I dunno w^hat I'll do. The thing hits me awful sud- 
den. I've got to think it over. He didn't do right by ^e. that's 
a fact, but he's my brother, my only relative, and if he's la trouble 
and I can help him, I dunno but its my duty to do it. 

Mel — I don't beli.we 3'ou'll do it, Nat. It hain't hucaan uater 
to help a feller what went aw-ay and left you as he did when you 
was nearly workin' yourself to death to keep body aui sou! to- 
gether. 

Nat — Yes, that's just what he done and I felt h^ri towards 
him but tw^enty years is a long time to hold a grudge. I gupss I'll 
mosey along hum now and talk the matter over with a).a. I've 
found her a perty good counsellor all these years and I ;^-uess be- 
tween us we can make up our minds what to do. 
(Exit Nat 1. u. e.) 

Bildad — Well all I've got to say is that if Nat takes Lije in, 
he 's got more of that milk of human kindness they neH about 
than I have. 

Mel — Same here. Went away all of a sudden whea. Nat had 
his nose to the grindstun, tryin' to support his mother, his wife 
and child and his wife's sick sister and bad luck meetia ' him at 
every turn. Even borrowed money to pay some of Lire's bills. 
Said he dpne it so there wouldn't be no stain on the iG.muj name 
becuz a. ,^good name was all he 'd got. 

Adnah^Yessir, he did. And there hain't anotkec man in 
this town that would a done it. 

(Enter Huldy Haskins 1. u. e.) 

Huldy — Good mornin', Bildad. Give me five poun<i»i if granu- 
lated sugar, a package of corn starch, a pound of coffee ind some 
saleratus. We asked Nat to git ^em fer us and he vr-is gone so 
long that I drove down to see what was keepin ' him. Met him 
out here and found he 's clean forgot all about 'em. T^iere ain 't 
no placin' dependence on the men folks any more. 

Bildad — Well, they's an excuse fer him this morula'. Huldy. 
Nat got a letter that kinder knocked the thoughts of gr,);:?ries out 
of his Lf^ad. 

Huldy — Oh. I spoze so. I know how you men folki 5tick up 
fer one another. I never got no letter yet that made oie fergit 
what I was sent fer. What was this here letter about i' 

Bildad — You remember Lije Pettigrew. 

Hnldy — Remember him? Guess I oughter. 

BUdad — Well, Nat got a letter from him down in Mixlco this 
mornin'. He's poorer 'n a church mouse, he ain't gitUa' along, 



SACKETT'S CORNER FOLKS 15 

is all rrm down and wants to come up here and live with Nat and 
let by-L'ones be by-gones. 

Hiildy — Well, of all things. "We hadn 't heard a word from 
him in 3 ears and supposed he'd give up the ghost long ago, 

Adnah — Well, he ain't and w^e 've been a tellin' Nat that 
after the vcay he dug out, we wouldn't take him back. 

Huldy — No, 'tain't likely you would and tain't many oth- 
ers thai would but there ain't many hearts in Sackett's Corner 
that's as big as Nat's and that's why I'm guessin' that the up- 
shot of it all will be that Lije will git a letter tellin' him to 
come. 

Deacon — If he does, he's a bigger fool 'n I ever took him tobe. 
out and >ave their folks in the lurch w^ait 'till they see the poor- 
house starin' 'em in the face before they spend much time bein ' 
sorry fer what they've done. If he w^an 't in hard luck, you 
wouldn't hear nothin' from him 'bout makin' up with Nat and 
f ergittin " old scores. Nat oughter write a good, strong letter 
down there to hirn^ askin' him how" he likes bein' in the same fix 
he left iiis folks in years ago and say to him that he kin git out 
of it the best w^ay he can. 

Huldy — That 's your way of lookin ' at it. I was brought uj) 
to believe in repentance and forgiveness and so was Nat, As I 
said before, I'll bet Nat tells him to come on. 

Deacon — If he does, he's a bigger fool 'n I ever took him to 
be. 

Huldy — I want to know\ Well I'll tell you one thing. Deacon 
Todd, if there hadn't been someone to overlook the meanness and 
fergive the sins of some folks that live a good deal nearer here 
than Mexico, them same folks w^ould a had a good deal harder 
TOW to hoe. And I ain't mentionin' any names nuther. 

Deacon — Whew, Huldy, you needn't flare up so. You don't 
mean me. do you? 

Huldy — I ain't said who I mean but you've heard that old 
sayin' about puttin' on the coat if it fits. (To Bildad.) Well, 
Mr. Teeter, if ^^ou 've got them things ready, I'll start along or 
Nat '11 have to come back and see what's become of me. (Takes 
bundles raid exits 1. u. e.) 

Bildad — Say. she's got a tongue like a razor w^heu she gits 
riled, hain't she? 

Adnah — That's what she has. And it hain't one 0' them 
safety razors, nuther. 

Mel — Well, guess I'll be startin' on towards home and bein' 
Huldy *s got a team, p'raps she'll give me a lift, A woman hadn't 
ouohter be drivin' fer herself anyway, nowadays, wdth so many 



16 SACKETT'S COENER FOLKS 

of them pesky automobiles likely to run her down any minute, 
(Exit Mel 1. u. e.) 

Bildad— Beats all how -fraid Mel is that Huldj's goin ' to 
git hurt, don't it? 

Adnah — He don't fool nobody none by sayin' that. He's 
been try in: to shine up to her fer five years that I know of but 
3ie don't seem to be gittin ' along none. 

Deacon — It's a good thing he hain't. ThunderashunI I 
\\-ouldu 't be hooked xip to a woman wath a tongue like that fer 
anythiiiu'. 

Bildad — I'shaw, deacon, Huldy's all right. You musn 't lay 
it up agin her beeuz she got back at ye kinder hard when she was 
stickin" up fer Xat. 

Deacon — I don't, but I don't like the way some wimmen has 
of iiisinuatin' things. Them's the kind that keeps a man in hot 
water all the time. 

Adnah — Well, I wouldn "t spend too much time worryin ' 'bout 
Mel becuz he hain't got clear sailin' there, not by a jug full. Sime 
Flanders, what's workin ' fer Nat, has got a sort of a leanin' 
towards Huldy too, and she seems to treat 'em 'bout alike and 
Mel and Sime are as jealous of each other as two old cats. 

Deacon — Yes, Mel gits jealous every time a man looks at her, 
no matter who 'tis. 

Bildad — That 's so. Dave Stevens told me 'tother day that 
INIel is e\en jealous of Eb. Gowdy, brother of Hank Clowdy, who's 
been li^ in ' in Nat's tenant house this year. Eb. hain't quite 
right in liis head, you know. 

Adnah — Say, that's a strange case of Eb 's, hain't it? Hank 
was tellin ' me 'bout it 'tother day when he was down to the 
^:hop to have his shovel mended. Eb. was as bright and lively a 
boy as ever was. Got took sick with typhoid fever and it went 
to his head and e^-er since then when he gits his mind sot on a 
thing, ho can't £iit it off of it until somebody comes along and 
talks to him a minute 'bout suthin' else. Hank and Tom Filkins 
Avas a tallvin' 'bout hatchin" chickens 'tother day and Eb. was 
listoiin'. Perty soon he was missin'. Hank went out to look fer 
him and wliere do you spoze he found him'i^ 

Bildad — T dunno. where? 

Adnah — Settin' in a bushel basket, cluckin' to beat the band. 
TTank tnld him to git up and then Eb. sez: ''Brahma hen, 15 eggs, 
sta;-ed on nest, set well, hatched 'em all," and so on. He thought 
he Avas a settin' hen. Heard Tom tell Hank what a good setter his 
Brahma hen was and how many chickens she hatched and the hen 
idee got into Eb 's head. It took Hank a minute or two to git 



SACKETT'S CORNER FOLKS 17 

him th'Tikin' 'bout dinner, then when he'd eat enough, had to git 
his niimd changed agin or he'd a put down vittles all the after- 
noon. Hank's wife told Hank she was goin' over to Hacketts- 
town ro git a picture of the Rock of Ages to hang in the settin' 
room, AVhen she come back she found Eb. out in the back yard 
a haugin " onto the pump with both arms fer dear life. He thought 
he was that picter. 

Bildad — AVhat did she do then? 

Adnah — I didn't hear. Prob'ly she told him he was post- 
master down to Sackett's Corner and then most likely he begun 
to read everybody's postal cards he could git hold of. (Deacon and 
Adnah laugh boistrously.) 

Bildad. — Huh, think you're smart, don't ye? 

Adnah — Oh, toJeral^le, Bildad, just tolerable. Say, what time 
is it.^ 

Bildad- — (Looking at watch.) It wants a quarter to twelve, 

Adiiah — Jumpin' fishhooks! Is it as late as that. Didn't 
think 'twas more 'n ten o'clock. I must be gittin ' home to din- 
ner beeuz I'ete Sanders is a comin' down this afternoon to git a 
tire set and there hain't a spark of tire in that there forge, 

Bildad — Guess I'll have to git hold of Eb. Gowdy and put 
hin^ Jn that shop and make him think he's the village wagon 
maker if nnytiiing ever gits done, (Bildad and Deacon laugh,) 

Adnah — Think you're smart, don't ye? 

Bildad — Tolerable, Adnah, tolerable. Guess we're 'bout even 
on Eb ■^ readiu' postal cards now. (As Adnah exits,) Come in 
again" Adnah, 

Dea<:on — Adnah likes to git the rigs on 'tother feller, don't 
he? It's different, though, when the joke's on him, 

Bildad — Yes, but that don't make no difference with me, I 
kinder like to pay hack a joke right prompt and I couldn't let 
that chance sliji. 

(I^iuner liorn blows, Bildad goes to door and answers,) 

BiMad — All right, Mandy, Be right in, 

('Bildad goes about, locking doors.) 

Deacon — Say, Bildad, do we eat to live or live to eat, 

Bildad — Gosh, deacon, there hain 't Init one answer to that 
riddle, 'specially when a feller hain't had a mouthful since break- 
fast. 

Deacon exits and Bildad follows after taking large door key 
from F'u:-i(et.) 

(CURTAIN.) 



■JH SACKETT'S CORXETf FOLKS 



Act II 



Scone — Sitting room in Nat Pettigrew's home. Mrs. Petti- 
grew at work, sweeping and dusting. 

Mrs. P. — Dear suz, it does seem that there ain't no end to a 
woman "s work. I saw a piece in the almanac the other day that 
said: ''Man works from sun to sun but a woman's work is never 
done" and I declare to goodness, it's gospel truth. With bakin', 
churnin', sweepin', dustin ', mendin ' and patchin' we women folks 
never seem to git a breathin' spell, leastwise I don't, and we've 
got to keep goin' if things are kept lookin' half way respectable. 
I've read about these here study clubs and literary sassieties and 
other things wimmen belong to and I've w^ondered what shape their 
houses must be in because somethin' or other has got to be let go 
when a woman gits to be a jiner. Mebbe, though, they've all got 
hired girls, leastwise I 'hope so. That's somethin' I never had. 
AVheu Pa's brother Lije went away, all of a sudden, years ago and 
left us Avith a mortgage on the farm and nothin' much else but 
the clothes on our backs. Pa and me just had to put in our best 
licks to keep out o' the poorhouse without a thought of hirin' any- 
body to help us. But since Huldy's been here, things has been 
some easier. 

. (Enter Xat d. c. with letter.) 

Mrs. P. — "Where's the things from the store. Pa, out in the 
kitchen? 

Nat — Je-ru-sa-lem, Ma, I clean, plumb forgot all about 'em. 

Mrs. P. — I expected you might so I sent Huldy down to see 
Avhat was keepin' you and to git the groceries if you forgot 'em 
because we need 'em to git dinner with. 

Nat — T had the hull list right on my tongue's end when I 
w^ent into the store but Bildad handed me a letter that made me 
fergit about everything else. 

Mrs. P. — Land sakes, it must have been important. 

Nat — You're just right. Here 'tis. 

Mrs. P.— (Takes letter.) Prom Mexico. Pshaw, this can't 
be for you. You don 't know nobody down there. 

Nat — Just what I thought but it is fer me and it's from 
somebody we both know although there have been times when we 
wan't very proud of the acquaintance. 

Mrs. P. — Land o' Goshen! Who? 

Nat — Guess. 

Mrs. P. — Xow, Pa. you know I ain't no good at guessin'. 
Tell me. 



SACKETT\S CORNER FOLKS 19^ 

Nat — I'll have to because you couldn't guess it in a week.. 
It "s from Lije. 

Mrs. P. — What, Lije Tettigrew? 

Nat — Yes, Lije PettigreAv. 

Mrs. P. — Well of all things. It's twenty long years since we 
heard from him and we not knowin' whether he was dead or alive.. 

Nat — Yes, Ma, twenty years and durin' most of 'em my feel- 
:ms towards him wan't real brotherly, nuther. 

Mrs. P. — Y^ou had cause. Pa, you had cause. 

Nat — I sure did, Ma. I[e left us just when we needed him 
the most, left us a fightin ' fer our very lives, I've said un- 
christian things about him, and I've thought 'em too, but since 
1 read the letter I've sorter softened towards him in spite 
of myself. After all, time kinder heals all wounds and twenty 
years is a long stretch. 

Mrs. P. — I know it does. Pa, but things such as he done are 
hard to overlook. Les read the letter, though. I'm gittin ' all 
in a fluster to know what he says. 

Nat — You read it. I want to hear it again. I was so kinder 
excited when I read it down to the store that I guess I didn't, 
really sense it all. 

(Mrs. P. takes letter and reads.) 

Durango, Mexico, 19 ... . 

(Supply date here.) 
JSTathaniel Pettigi"^w, Esq., 

Sackett 's Corner, N. Y. 
Dear Brother Nat: — • 

After the years that have passed and after the things that 
have happened, I hardly know how to begin a letter to you. Many 
times during the past few months I have tried to write but words 
failed me. This time I have succeeded although I fear a message 
from me will be unwelcome. Nor can I wonder. I wronged you. 
Candidly T admit it. I will not waste words but will come directly 
to the point. Nat, I ask the forgiveness of yourself and wife, al- 
though I do not deserve it. If ever a man was repentant, so am I. 
Surrounded by people who care nothing for me and have no inter- 
est in me, I feel myself an exile, an outcast. Nat, I yearn to 
come home. To know what T haA'e endured for twenty years 
might soften your heart which I know is hardened toward me. I 
deserved punishment and I have received it. May I comef May 
I spend the remainder of my days in the only place that can ever 
be home to me, ^mid those green fields, those glorious old hills 
and the scenes that were so familiar to me in years gone hyt^ 
Bon 't sar no, Nat, don 't punish me further. Whatever amends^ 



20 SACEETT'S COENER FOLKS 

lie in my power I will make although I realize it is impj-sible to 
right all those wrongs. What is your answer? Please write at 
once. Don 't keep me in susjjense. 

Tour brother, 

ELijah. 

(Xat and Mrs. P. gaze at each other in silence.) 

Nat — Well, Ma, what do you think? 

Mrs. P. — I declare, Pa, I don't know. What do you think? 

Nat — 1 didn "t think of nothin ' else on my way from the 
store and I don't know as I am any nearer makin' up my mind 
than I was at the start. 

Mrs. P. — Well, I ain 't got no opinion, nuther. It strikes me 
so kinder sudden that I want to ponder on it. 

Nat — My first thought was not to pay no attentioi: to the 
letter or else to write him that no matter how much he is sufferin^ 
he won 't be punished enough f er what he has done to us by leavin * 
as he did, takin' the little money we had saved up to pay on the 
mortgage and leavin ' a lot of his bills fer me to j)ay out of what 
little we was able to git out of the farm. Of course I wasn't 
obliged to pay 'em but the folks he owed couldn't afford to lose 
it and I didn't want no stain on the name of Pettigrew if I could 
help it. 

Mrs. P. — Yes, Pa, you did and there ain't many other men in 
the Corner that would a done it. It's nigh onto imporsible to git 
some of 'em to pay their honest debts to say nothin' of them they 
don 't owe. 

Nat — As I was sayin', I'm kinder relentin' towards Lije. 
After I read that letter, I got to thinkin' 'bout parson Beniiss' ser- 
mon last Sunday. You know he bore down hefty on repentance 
and the heapin' on of coals of fire. It has been a long time since 
one of his sermons impressed me the way that one did. It seems 
to me now that I could repeat every word of it. It 's before me 
as plain as the market report in that there paper (points to paper 
on table.) These words keep running through my head; "There 
comes a time in the life of every man who has jjrievou:5l>- wronged 
another, a desire to undo, as far as he is able, what he has done 
That is repentance. When this desire, this regret, is deep .5eat^g=d the 
mental anguish of the transgressor is as great as, if not greater 
than that he has brought upon others. It means that he has come to 
a realizing sense of his sin, it means that the pleadings of the Silent 
Toice have triumphed, and when this time comes, when ia honesty 
and in earnestness he pleads for forgiveness, it is, it seenfcs to me, 
our duty to meet him half way, to let bygones be b7-g3nes, and 
*o extefii the helpin' hand to the repentant one." That wan 't all 



SACKETT'8 CORNER FOLKS 2B 

of it, Ma,, but the pith of the sermon is iu them fe\7 words. The- 
parson wau't ma kin' no attempt at eloquence; he wan't makin' 
no "grand stand play'- as our Ralph tells about. They was just 
plain Avords, tut they was spoke with an earnestness that drove- 
"era into the hearts and minds of us all. 

Mrs. P. — Well, Pa, if there's anything in comin' events castin'' 
their shadders before and preparin' folks fer what is goin' to- 
happen, it may be that the parson was especially inspired on our 
account when he wrote that sermon. 

Nat — There, Ma, that proves what I've always heard, that 
great minds move in the same channel. That's just what I've- 
been thinkin'. Perhaps it was the way the All "Wise took to show 
us our duty. And mebbe not. Perhaps 'twas just a happen so.. 
At any rate it sot me thinkin'. But I can't see my way clear 
just now. I'll go out to the barn and finish greasin ' that har- 
ness afore dinner and mebbe when I came in I'll know what to do.. 
If we write him to come, it's goin' to mean sacrifices we don't 
neither of us like to think about. (Exit Nat 1. u. e.) 

Mrs. P. — It sure is a tryin ' time fer pa but I guess he 'IL 
work things out all right in the end. He usually does. 

(Enter Huldy r. u. e.) 

Huldy — It's a fortunate thing I'm here, Sarepty, to tag the^ 
men folks around and remember what they forgit. Suppose I 
hadn't been here today to chase Nat down to the store fer them, 
things. You wouldn '*t a had 'em, that 's all. 

Mrs. P. — That's right Huldy, but there's an excuse fer pa to- 
day. You step, to the door and tell Sime to put out the horse and: 
I'll tell you all about it. 

Huidy — The horse is bein' put out. Mel Satterlee, knowin'" 
that old Daisy is skittish of them automobiles whe» she f^eU like- 
it, rode up with me so 's I wouldn't be brought home in pieces if 
I met one. I've ast him to dinner, seein ' as how it's near din- 
ner time and considerable of a piece to walk back to the Corner.. 

Mrs. P. — That's all right, Huldy, but you know it won't 
please Sime to have Mel around. If there 's any bloodshed, you '11: 
be the cause of it. 

Huldy — Got to have your dig at me, hain't you. I reckon^ 
there ain't goin' to be no fuss because I don't care a snap of my 
finger fer either of 'em and they know it. 

Mrs. P. — I hain't so sure about that, Huldy. 

HuMy — About what '? 

Mrs. P. — About your not' carin ' fer either of 'em. You just 
can't nafi'ke up your mind which, that's all. 



22 SACKETT'S COKNER FOLKS 

Huldy — 'Tain 't no such thing. Well, if we're goin to havo 
any dinner today, I've got to be movin *. It must be time now. 

Mrs. P. — Dinner's cookin' and I figgered to have it late to- 
day because we had a late breakfast and Pa and Sime sed a late 
dinner and a lunch before goin' to bed would just suit 'eai. Be- 
sides, I want to tell you about a letter Pa got this morain '. 

Huldy — I know all about it, I knew it before you lid. 

Mrs. P. — Land sakes, where 'd you hear about it? 

Huldy — Down to the store. Nat opened it there, reai it, told 
them setters what was in it and they was all talkin' about it when 
I got there. 

Mrs. P. — Well, what do you think about it? 

Huldy — When I first heard about it, and remembered Lije "s 
low-down, contemptible meanness, I was fer tellin' him to stay 
where he is, keep on sulferin' and see how he likes it ani that no 
matter how sick or poor or lonesome he is, it's good eaough for 
him. But I dunno. Mebbe that hain't the way to look at it; meb- 
be if he's thoroughly repentant, he ought to be given a chance to 
show it. But no matter how much or how little he think* j.bout it, 
I know what Nat '11 do. 

Mrs. P.— What? 

Huldy — He'll forgive him and tell him to come. 

Mrs. P. — When Nat went out, just afore you come, ae said if 
Lije comes it will mean sacrifices we don't neither of us like to 
think of. I know what he meant. AYe've been scrapm' and 
pinchin' to git money enough together to send Ealph tj college. 
You know his head is set on studyin ' electricity. If Lije L^mes, it 
will mean that Kalph will have to wait anyway another fear and 
mebbe longer for, from Lije 's letter, I see he is sick and poverty 
stricken. There ain't no place fer him to sleep so we 'IL have to 
raise that ell to make another room and will most likelf have to 
pay out considerable for doctor's bills for him and there ain't no 
tellin' what other expense there will be. But if Pa wants to for- 
give Lije and let him come back, I ain't got a word to say. I 
couldn't be that ongrateful. I don't fergit how, when mother was 
took sick, Pa went right over, brought her here and doae every- 
thing he could fer her as long as she lived and how he set up night 
after night with brother John when he had the tj'phoid. John 
always said it was Nat's nursin' that saved his life. Turn aboat 
is fair play. If Lije comes, I'll treat him as if nothin " iad hap- 
pened and will do all I can for him. 

Huldy — Sarepty, y 'u're doin' just right and it's exactly the 
way I would lopk at it if 1 was in your place. 

(Enter Melancthon Satterlee d. c.) 



8ackp:tt's coexer folks £3 

Mel— Howdy, Mrs. Pettigrew. Ain't iiothin' iu pertickler the 
matter with this brand of M'eather is there? 

Mrs. P.— Xo, Mel, there snreJy hain't. JIuldy, 1 'il go and see 
if the water is bilin ' off tlieni ])otatoes while you entertain Mel. 
(Exit Mrs. r. d. e.) 

Mel — .Say, Huldy, you said when we was eoniin ' up that you 
couldn't listen to what 1 wanted to say because you was so flus- 
tered for fear we would be hit by one o' them autermobiles but 
there certainly ain't nothin' goin' to hit us here unless it's an 
earthquake and there ain't one o' them due yet fer quite a spell. 

Huldy — I know well enough what you're goin' to say 'cause 
you'\e ^aid it every chance you've had for the last five years. 

Mel — Well, if you know what 'tis, there hain't no use o' 
beatin" round the bush. You know I want you, Huldy and want 
ye bad. Xow which is it, yes or no? 

Huldy — It liain t nuther. I hain't ready to talk marryin '. 

Mel — I'll bet Sime Flanders has been pesteriu' you again. 
Xow. Huldy, what's the use of your fritterin' away your time on 
him? He's a sour, crabbid, dried-up old widderer. You don't 
^vant no second-hand husband. And there ain't no use of it, 
iiuther. when you can git a brand new one by just sayin ' the 
^vord. 

Huldy — ] ain't sayin' nothin' for or agin' Sime but I hain't 
in a marryjn' mood today and I don't w^ant to hear no more 'bout 
it now. 

Me] — All right, Huldy, but you can find cases right here in 
the Corner where second wives ain 't treated as they ought ter be 
and you'd better think o' that before you turn dowm a chance 
to git a husband that'll do by you as a wife ought to be done by. 

Sime — (Heard outside). Mel! Mel! (Putting head in door) 
Oh. here ye be, eh? Say. Mel, Nat wants to know if you'll come 
out to the barn and show him how to make them rings you put in 
your hogs' noses. 

Mel — All right, Sime, I'll be right there. (Aside) Drat the 
pigs and darn them rings. (Exit d. c.) 

{Enter Sime 1. u. e. ) 

Sime— (Looking after Mel) So that homely old bach is hang- 
in' round here agin is he, Huldy? I hope you don't give him no 
encouragement. He ain't fit fer ye. Never seen one of 'em yet 
that got married at his time of life that knowed how to treat a 
wife. What you want, Huldy. is a man that's had some experi- 
ence with women. Ho you supjtose one o' them sour old baches 
ever thinks of fetchin' in an armful of w^ood or a pail of water 
or anything else fer a wife when he gits one? 'Course not. If you 



24 SACKETT'S CORNER FOLKS 

marry Mel. Satterlee, it won't be a 3'ear before you'll work your- 
self down to a shadder. You can see plenty of cases of it right 
here in the Corner. Hook up double with nie, Huldy, and git a 
helpmeet that will be one in suthin ' besides name. 

Huldy — I hain't in no ''hookin' up" mood today, Sime, and 
if I was, 1 guess nothin' you could say about second wives down 
to the Corner would make any difference. I rather guess I'd be 
able to take care of myself with a second-hand husband or a first- 
hand one if I wanted either, which I don't. (Ei:it Huldy r. u. e.) 

Sime — Second-hand husband. That means me. Some more of 
Mel. Satterlee 's insults. Gcsh, but he's jealous. Mel's had it in 
fer me ey^v since I used to lick him every chance I got when we 
went to school together. Dinged if I don't believe I could do it 
yet and I will, too, if he uses that there tongue of his'n too free. 
(Looks off left.) There he comes now, lookin' madder 'n a hat- 
ter. He guesses I put up that job to git him down to the barn and 
away from Huldy. And he's right. I guess I'll just hide and 
see what happens. (Gets behind table.) 

(Enter Mel 1. u. e.) 

Mel — (Looking about.) Both of 'em gone, eh? Down in the 
kitchen a spooniu' I suppose. "Well, ding my buttons if I can tell 
what she sees about that Sime Flanders to admire. He's the hum- 
liest critter breath was ever put into. Gosh, but he's jealous of 
me. And I guess he's got reason becuz it kinder looks as if 
Huldy favors nic some considerable. If 1 Avas here all the tinu; 
like he is, he would stand no chance at all. He'd better look out 
what he says about me to her, though, or I might be inclined to 
pound the stufifin' outen him. 

Sime — (Rising from behind table.) Say, Mel, have you got 
any special time set when you want to commence that job? And 
say, talkin' about humly critters, I guess you hain't got no lookin' 
glass down to your house, hev ye? 

Mel. — So you was hidin' round to play the spy, was ye? Just 
like ye. You heard what I said and I hain't goin ' to take none 
of it back. 

Sime — (Advancing.) Ye hain't, eh? AVell I kin make ye and 
I'm half a mind to. So you think you can win Huldy Haskins, 
do ye? Well, I'll tell ye right now that she ain't goin' to take 
up with no old knock-kneed, piefaced, jellyfish like you when 
there's a real man (slaps himself on breast) around and don't 
you fer git it. 

Mel — '\\'ho's a pie-face, you old spindle-shanked hyena? 

Sime — I'll show you who's a hyena. 

(Shake fists in each other's faces.) 



SACKETT'S CORNER FOLKS 25 

Mel — I'll show you who's a pie-face. 

(They clinch and commence to wrestle. Enter Nat 

d. c, Iluldy 1. u. e. and Mrs. T. r. u. e. Mrs. P. grabs 

Sime, Huldy grabs Mel. and Nat steps between and sep- 
arates them. Sime and Mel struggle to get at each other. 

Sime — Let go of me, Huldy, I'll teach him to be careful who 
he 's callin' names. 

Mel — Just give me a chance and I'll pulverize him so fine that 
that tongue of his'n won't be insultin' nobody else. 

Huldy — Stop or I'll never speak another word to either of 
you. 

Mrs. P.— I declare, I never seen such goins on. An^^body 
would think neither of you was more'n a dozen years old. 

Nat — Look a here, you young bantam roosters, you just 
straighten your feathers or else go out iu the back yard and have 
it out. 

Mrs. P. — Why, Pa, how you talk. 

Sime — -All right, Huldy, I '11 let up on him this time but it '.^ 
only for your sake. 

Mei — I'll quit just to accommodate you, Huldy, but he needs 
a thrashin'. 

Huldy — I'm ashamed of you. The idea of two men as old as 
you be a lightin'. If you think anything of my friendship, shake- 
hanOs and promise to behave yourselves hereafter. 

(Sime and Mel glare at each other but make no move to- 
shake lumds.) 

Huldy— Come, git a gait on you. 

(Sime and Mel advance slowh', grasp hands loosely and shake- 
slightly.) 

Huldy — Now, Sime, do you promise to behave? 

Sime — (First glancing vindictively at Mel.) Y-a-a-s. 

Huldy — Now, Mel, do you promise. 

Mel — Y-a-a-s. 

Huldy — Now git out of here, both of you, and come into the- 
kitchen where I can keep an eye on you. (Pushes Mel off 1. u. e.. 
and beckons to Sime who follows.) 

Nat — Say, Ma, that old sayin' about the course of true love- 
not runnin' smooth ain't no joke, is it? 

Mrs. P. — It don't appear to be in this case. 

Nat — Ma, I've ben thinkin' the thing over and I guess if 
you're willin' I'll tell Lije to come on. It'll be an awful dis- 
appointment to Ralph to know that he'll have to wait another 
year for that course in electricity but he's always listened to my 
reasonin' and I guess I can explain things to him. 



26 SACKETT'S CORNER FOLKS 

Mrs. P. — All right, Pa, do as you think best and I f-romise 
you I'll do my part. 

Nat — I'm sure you will, ma, aud I want you to kii'-i" I ap- 
preciate it. Now suppose you go and git the letter really. You 
know letter writin' ain't my strong holt. 

Mrs. P.— I don't know exactly what to say, Pa, but I'll do 
my best. I'll bring it in and read it to 3'ou when it's finished and 
if it suits you, we'll put it in the box so the carrier can git it in 
the mornin'. (Exit Mrs. P. d. c.) 

Nat — Li.je don't deserve it but somehow or other I iu-t can't 
say no to him. 

(Enter Ralph Pettigrew 1. u. e.) 

Ralph — Hello, father, ben lookin' all over for yo.i and 
couldn 't find yon. 

Nat — That's because you didn't look in the right spor. What's, 
on your mind? 

Ralph — Nothin' serious. I just wanted to say tha: if you 
don't care, I guess I'll take the colt and drive over to Beoket to- 
those church doins tonight. Most everybody down to tl:'^ Corner 
is goin '. 

Nat — I ain't got no objections. Have a good time while you're 
young. Life is a short span anyway and if we have the pleas- 
ures, we've got to take advantage of them as they come along. 
But say, Ralph, I'm glad you come in because I've got siithin ' I 
want to say to you. You don't remember your uncle Elijah, be- 
cause you was a babe in the cradle when he went away. 

Ralph — No, father, I don't remember him and from what I've 
heard about him, it's just as well that I don't. I'm never goin' 
to forgive him for the way he treated you aud mother. 

Nat — Ralph, I've felt the same way for twenty yeai-=. I've 
said I never wanted to see him again and I've thought un-Christ- 
ian things about him but we've just had a letter from him and 
that, with some other things, has sort of changed the feelins of 
your mother and me toward him. 

Ralph — He couldn 't write any letter that would make me for- 
give him. 

Nat — So I used to think. This letter says he's in Mexico, 
all broken down in health, among a lot of people who don 't care 
nothin' for him and, although he didn't say so in so many words, 
I take it that besides not havin' any friends, he's poorer 'n pus- 
ley. He begs us to forgive him and wants to come back. Ralph, 
I'm the only near relative he's got and 3'ou know what the Good 
Book says about forgiveness. 



SACKETT'S CORNER FOLKS 27 

Raipii^All right, father, do as you like. Of course it isn't 
;inythii>i: to me. 

Nat — Yes^ Ralph, it Js. His comin' back will mean consider- 
able to you and that's what T meant a minute ago when I said I 
wanted ti; Talk to you. I've promised you the course in electricity 
you havv wanted since you entered your teens. We've been savin' 
up the money and have got nearly enough but if your uncle comes 
back it -.r.eans more expense. He will want medicine and perhaps 
care th^t we Avill have to pay for. There ain't a room in the 
house w- can give him. It means that we've got to go to work 
and rai^c that ell one story that we've been hopin' to do for so 
many y-;us and it'll take money and all we've got is that we've 
laid asiu'^ for your education. 

Ralpla — I suppose that meaus you want me to let the educa- 
tion yi'. 

Nat — No, Ralph, it don't, but it means you would have to 
^vait. I "ni goin' to give you an education if I have to mortgage 
the farrr; to do it, but you're young yet and I'm hopin' that in a 
year or t'.vo we will save enough more, somehow or other, to pay 
for your course. The question is, are you willin' to bear your 
portion of. the sacrifice we will all have to make in order to let your 
uncle Liie come back? 

Ralpk — Father, let me ask you a question. Do you really 
want UTicle Elijah to come? 

Nat — Yes, boy, I do. He ain't done right by us but it's our 
duty to 'i'xn out the helpin' hand if he is repentant and asks our 
forgive/je^s. 

Eaipli — Then I 11 do my part. You've done the very best you 
could by me so far and I can see it would be ungrateful if I stood 
in the way of something you want although it means a disap- 
pointuieLt aud a sacrifice. It won't be any harder for me than 
for you and mother. If uncle Elijah's fate hangs on my decision, 
A'ou may tell him to come. 

Nat. — Thank you, boy, thank you. It was hard for me to ask 
this but I rather thought you would do it. 

Ralph — While you 're at it why don 't you do that ell addi- 
tion oti ^nto two or three rooms instead of one big one and then 
take a summer boarder or two? Other folks around here are doin' 
it aud rnakiu' money at it, too. 

Na.t — I declare, boy, I'd never thought of that. I'll talk 
it over with your mother. A few extra dollars wouldn't come 
amiss. 

Ralph — Well, if I'm goiu ' over to Becket, I'd better go out 
aud was/j that carriage. 



:28 SACKETT'S CORNER FOLKS 

Nat — All right, and on your way out, ask your mother if she's 
jgot that letter done yet. (Exit Ralph 1. u. e.) 

Nat — I declare, the boy took it better 'n I thought he would 
He's true blue and no mistake. (Enter Mrs. P. d. c. witl-: letter) 

Mrs. P. — Here is the letter, Pa^ and, I declare, it was the 
hardest one T ever tried to write. 

Nat — I don 't doubt it, Ma, but I knowed you could do a bet- 
ter job at it than I could. You know I got pretty well acquainted 
•with your letter writin' several years before we stood up in front 
-of old parson Brown and I always said that there wan 't none of 
"em that could beat you at sayin ' a thing short and to the point. 
Less hear what you 've got writ. 

(Both sit. Mrs. P. adjusts spectacles and reads:) 

Sackett's Corner, X. Y. 
(Supply date.) 

Mrs. P. — ^'Dear Brother Lije: " Is that the way you want to 
■start it? 

Nat — Y-a-a-a-s, I guess so, although it kinder goes agin' the 
■grain as I think back. But let it go that way. 

Mrs. P. — (Resuming). Your letter received and I was very 
much surprised to liear from you." 

Nat — That's all right, so far. 

Mrs. P. — (Resuming). I'll say, right at the stan, that when 
■anyone comes out, point blank^ and asks f er f ergiveness, it 's hatd 
work to refuse it. Therefore I forgive you. But that isn 't the 
-onl}^ reason. I haven 't forgo t what was taught me and you at 
mother's knee and I've tried to live up to it all these years. You 
■didn't treat me just as a brother should but I'll overlook it all — • 

Nat — That's good, ma. I want him to know we ain't forgot. 

Mrs. P. — (Repeats.) ''But I'll overlook it all and wnll wel- 
'Come you back and Sarepta and me will do the best we know how 
by you." (I thought I'd put that in so he'd know I ain't agin' his 
■ comin '.) 

Nat — That's all right, ma; good idee. 

Mrs. P. — (Resuming.) ''And will let bygones be bygones. 
Let us know about when you'll be here and we'll be on the look- 
'out for you. ' ' 

Nat. — Fust rate, ma, fust rate. Plenty long enough and it 
tells the hull story. Seal 'er up and I'll go out and drop it in 
;the box. 

(Mrs. P. seals letter and hands it to Nat.) 

Mrs. P. — And I'll go and see how Huldy 's gettin ' on with the 
•dinner. (Exit Mrs. P. d. c. Exit Nat 1. u. e.) 

CURTAIN. 



SACKETT'S COSNER FOLKS 29 



Act III 



(iScviae: Same as Act 11.) 

(T^o months are supposed to have elapsed during which time 
Elijah ras arrived, also Miss Arathusa Fitzgibbons, a city boarder 
who is an enthusiastic member of the Society for the Prevention 
of Crueity to Animals.) 

(Enter Ara. d. c.) 

Ara. — Oh, this is lovely, grand, beautiful, superb. Pure and 
exhilarating ozone, verdant pastures, majestic forests, babbling 
brooks, pleasant walks. The odors of the flowers and the new 
mown ha_y are surpassing fragrance, wonderful incense. Oh, that 
T could stay here always to bask in the beautiful sunlight, to gaze 
at Nature's wonderful and entrancing panorama, to witness her 
kaleidescoi)ic changes as one tint succeeds another on the giants of 
the forsets in the glorious autumn time. It is soul-stirring and 
when OEC stops to ponder, he is filled with awe at the marvelous 
works CI the Creator. Oh, it is sublime, wondrous and sublime; 
so resti:il. so refreshing, (Sighs.) But in four short weeks I must 
forsake it all and reluctantly return to the place where duty calls 
to the Vaisy mart, the overgrown metropolis where all is hubbub 
and eoTjfusion, where humane instincts and thoughts of right and 
justice are endangered and sometimes forgotten in the chase for 
the almighty dollar, where the poor, dumb brutes are the victims 
of atrocious cruelties, where, in the conduct of public affairs, men 
are fornd whose only thought is of gain and self-aggrandizement. 
There I labor with others of my sex that there may be seen the 
dawn ..-f a better day, the day when woman shall have the right 
of frar -hise conferred upon her when — • 

(Eb. Gowdy heard outside.) 

Eb. — Whoa, durn ye. Stand still 'till I git into this wagon or 
I'll sn:ar-h in your old slats. 

Ara-. — Oh, horrors. A poor horse in the hands of a human 
)nonster. And in this beautiful spot, too, where I supposed only 
the most humane instincts existed. Is my idea of a paradise to 
be shattered? Is human nature the same the world over? I must 
hasten to the relief of that poor animal. 

(Starts to exit d. c. when she meets Eb. entering. Eb. takes 
no notice of Ara.) 

ETh. — (Starts about stage as if driving a horse and goes 
throuiiri motions of whipping. Ara., in fright, rushes about stage 
to avoid him.) Go on there. I'll teach you to stake. G'lang. 
(whip^) durn your old hide, (whips). That there jag of wood 



30 SACKETT'S CORNER FOLKS 

don't weigh more 'n a hundred pounds and I'll bet my suspender3 
on it. 

Ara. — Oh, what shall I do? A lunatic and violent, too. 

Eb. — (AVhips vigorously- and then walks about stage quietly 
with arms extended as if holding reins over a horse that had just 
been started after a fit of balking.) There. I thought I'd git you 
started. 

Ara. — I must reason with him by gentle and persuasive means. 
(To Eb.) Please, kind sir, let me plead with you in the name of 
humanity to be kind to your poor, dumb animal, your faithful 
servant, the horse, man 's best friend. 

Eb.— (Still driving). Don't bother me. Got this old bone 
heap started and if I let him stop before he gits to the top of this 
hill, I couldn't start him again with nothin' short of dynamite. 
(Enter Nat d. c.) (Eb. ignores him.) 

Ara. — Oh. Mr. Pettigrew, I'm so glad you've come. I am so 
frightened by this awful man. He is raving crazy and in his de- 
lirium is abusing a poor horse. I have tried to reason with him so 
that if he ever really does drive a horse, he w^iil be kind to it. 

Nat. — Shucks, Miss Fitzgibbons, he wouldn't hurt a flea. 
That's Eb. Gowdy, one of our neighbors, what ain't just right 
in his head at times. ^Vhen he gits his mind sot on a thing, some- 
times, he can't git it off until someone changes it fer him and 
this is one of them times. On his way from the Corner just now 
he passed old Jim Green who was tryin' to start his balky horse 
up a hill and Eb. thinks he's doin' the same thing. I'll change 
his mind in a jiffy. (Goes to Eb. and grasps him by the arm.) 
Hello, Eb., you ain't drivin' no horse. You're listenin' fer the 
dinner horn and when you hear it, you're goin' to run fer home 
like all git out. 

Eb. — (Pulls away.) Giddap, think I want to be all day git- 
tin' home with this here jag o' wood? (Whips.) 

Nat. — Eb., see here. Hungry, dinner horn, dinner, listen, run. 
(Nat goes r. and puts hand to ear as if listening. Eb. stops whip- 
ping and watches.) I hear it. Dinner's ready. Dinner Eb., horn, 
run. 

Eb. — Dinner? That's so. Hungry? Oh, my. (Clasps hands 
across stomach. Goes r. and listens.) Horn, Nat, horn. Dinner, 
pork and beans, potatoes, coffee. Good bye, Nat, see you later. 
(Runs off r.) 

Nat. — There he goes, Miss, and he won't think of nothin' but 
dinner until someone switches his mind off onto suthin' else or the 
spell leaves him. Been that way fer years. Had typhoid fever 
when he was a boy and that's the way it left him. 



SACKETT'S CORNER FOLKS 31 

Ara.— What a sad case. And to think there should be such 
misery amid such beautiful surroundings. 

Nat. — Yes, 'tis too bad but I've noticed that if a feller is 
singled out fer bad luck, it generally comes to him no matter who 
he is or where he lives. 

(Enter Mrs. 1*. 1. u. e., dust cloth in hand.) 

Mrs. P. — Say, Pa, Lijah is a settin' in his chair out under the 
old harvest apple tree and the sun's got around so it's perty hot. 
He wants to know if you'll come and help him in here where it's 
cooler, 

Ara. — And I think I'll take a walk down to the brook before 
dinner. I want to gather some of those beautiful flowers. (Exit 
r. u. e.) 

Nat. — All right, Ma, I'll go right out. If Lije keeps on im- 
provin' the way he has since he come, it won't be long before he 
kin navigate alone. The day he got here he could hardly stand 
up and this moruin' M'hen I helped him out to the tree I didn't do 
nothin', scarcely, but stiddy him a little bit. (Exit 1. u. e.) 

Mrs. P. — Yes, and I do hope he'll keep on improvin ' because 
lie keeps gittin' more 'n more chipj^er when lie sees he's gittin^ 
his strength back. I guess I'll just take a minute to dust up be- 
fore Pa and Elijah git here. (Dusts all the furniture in silence 
previrnT- 1o entrance of Nat. and Lije.) 

(l'i:ter, slowl.v, Nat. and Elijah. Nat supports him. Elijah 
is made up pale and walks with a cane.) 

Mrs. P. — (Moving easy chair near table.) Pa. help 'Lijah to 
this chair. It 's inore comfortable 'n any of the rest of 'em. 

(Elijah sits and wipes face with handkerchief.) 

Elijah — Thank you, Nat, and you, too, Sarept}'. I don't 
know how I'm ever gom' to pay you for the kindness you're show- 
in ' me. 

Mrs. P. — Shucks, 'Lijah, don't you say a word. We're gittin' 
our pay by seein' you gettin' your strength back from day to da3^ 

Nat. — Yessir, Lije, this here brand of pure air is just the 
very best kind of a bracer. Beats these here patent medicine 
tonics all holler. 'Tain't goin' to be no time at all before you 
and Sime will be a racin' every mornin' to see who can put down 
the most of them buckwheat pancakes of Huldy's. 

Elijah — T hope so, Nat, and I don't know but you're right 
becuz I certainly am a f eelin ' better. There was never a happier 
minute in my life than when I received your letter and although 
I was comin' as fast as steam would carry me, it seemed as if we 
was just crawlin'. 



52 SACKETT'S CORNER FOLKS 

Nat. — Good thing, then, you didn't liave to com*' tae old- 
fashioned stage coach way, AA'an.'t it? 

Elijah — Yes, it was. Nat. I never wouhl have sinvived it. 
And when I finally did git to the Corner, it seemed as if I couldn't 
wait to* git a glimpse of the old farm. 

Mrs. P. — And now you're just goin' to enjoy yourself, ^it well 
and strong and have nothin' to worry about. 

Elijah — Mebbe I won't worry but I can never forgi: how I 
wronged you and Nat years ago and I'll never be able to forgive 
myself or make proper amends. 

Nat. — Lije, don't you ever let me hear you say that again. 
"When mother 'n me wrote you that letter to come to us we decided 
that bygones should be bygones. What is past is goin"* to be a 
closed book. We ain't never goin' to-, speak of it again and we're 
goin' to try not to think of it. Right here is where we aiake a 
new start; you're one of us again and so long as we've got a cent, 
you're goin' to have your share. 

Elijah — Thank you, Nat, thank 3'ou. Although I don't de- 
serve it, nothin' I've ever heard has done me as much good as 
them few words. You and Sarepty are two in a thousand and if 
you don't git your reward on the o"^er side, there just sin't no 
truth in scripter. 

(Enter Ralph d. c.) 

Ralph — Pa, Submit Tewksbury is out in the idtehen aai wants 
to know if she kin see you on a little matter of busines-;. 

Nat. — Certain, send 'er right 7n. 

(Exit Ralph d. c.) 
• Mrs. P. — Well. I wonder what it can be that Subnih wants. 
Suppose it's anything jDrivate? 

Nat. — Nope, I don't. If she's got anything to sr}\ she's 
goin' to say it here. I hain't havin ' no secrets from j m and. 
Lije. 

(Enter Submit d. c.) 

Submit — Mornin' folks. Well, if there ain't 'Lijah. [Shakes 
hands with Elijah.) Heard you was here but hadn't seen you 
before. Lookin' kind o' pindlin', ain't ye? Kinder different 
from what you was when you went away. Don't suppose it's 
consumption, do you? Looks some like it. You've got the con- 
sumptive color. But then, I hain't goin' to say nothin' to dis- 
courage you. Course you want to live as long as you can but if 
you've got to go, the Corner is as good a place to be laid away 
in as any although they ain't keepin ' the cemetery up like they 
used to and I 'spose the time will come when it won't be aothin'" 
but a lot of weeds. 



SACKETT'S CORNER FOLKS 33^ 

Elijah — No, Submit, I don't suppose I do look as I used to^ 
and I notice you've changed considerable but, of course, when 
one gets to be your age — 

Submit — Well, Lije Pettigrew, that's a nice way to talk to me- 
when I come here and try to say somethin' comf ortiu ' and en- 
couragin ' to you. 

Nat — Kinder got your comeuppance that time, didn 't you Sub- 
mit? But what business have you got with me? 

Submit — I declare, I almost forgot that. You know 'Lonzo 
Jeffers has been sick a long time. The ladies' aid society sent me 
over there yesterday to see now they was gittin' on. They're 
sufferin' fer the necessaries of life and I've started out to see- 
what I kin git fer 'em. 

Nat. — What do you want me to give, Submit? 

Submit — Anything you want to. Somethin' to ?at would' 
probably be as acceptable as anything. 

Nat — How would a barrel of j^otatoes do? 

Submit — Just the thing. 

Mrs. P. — Yes, and they shall have a big roll of butter, too,, 
and I shouldn't be surprised if I can find some clothes of Ralph's 
that Huldy and me can make over for the children. I'll go and' 
see right away. (Exit Mrs. P. 1. u. e.) 

Nat — And I'll go and tell Sime to take them potatoes over 
before night. (Exit Nat 1. u. e.) 

Submit — And I'll be joggin' on because I've got a lot of 
places to stop at. Good day, 'Lijah. Hope you'll be lookin' bet- 
ter the next time I see you. 

Elijah — Thank you. Submit, I think I'm going to. 
(Exit Submit d. c.) 

Elijah — Lon Jefifers sick and poverty stricken. Poor Lon.. 
Never could seem to get on. Good fellow, too, and always was. 
But if the rest of the folks hereabouts are like Nat and Sarepty, 
the family won't suffer. I guess I'll go into the parlor and lop 
down on that sofa a few minutes. I declare, I feel ail tuckered 
out. Can't seem to stand nothin' any more. (Rises slowly and" 
exits r. u. e. with aid of cane.) 

(Enter Mel. Skinner, 1. u. e., dragging Eb. Gowdy.) 

Mel. — Now look a here, Eb., your name is Sime Flanders and' 
you've got a wife that is lazyer 'n sin. You've just got to git 
after her good and strong. She don't do nothin' all day long but 
read them paper-covered novels. Meals ain 't never ready, dishes^ 
ain't washed, fire's out, no wood in the house. Just tell her what's 
what. Go at it vigorows. Let her know who 's boss. 

Eb. — Me, Sime Flanders and got a wife? Why yes, that's^ 



34 SACKETT'S CORNER FOLKS 

so. She ain't no good. 'Course she ain't. I'll make her come 
to time. Can't have no such goins on as that. 

Mel — (^ Aside). I've got him started on the right track. Now 
I'll call Hnldy and if this here thing works out as I cal 'late it 
-will, I'll soon have Sime Flanders cut out. (Goes to door and calls 
"Huldy.) , Huldy heard answering in the distance.) (Mel. goes 
T. 1st e.. out of sight of Huldy and prepares to listen, meanwhile 
Eh. is walking pomijously about stage.) 

(Enters Huldy d. c. As she enters Eb. says, talking to imagi- 
nary woman, without noticing Huldy.) 

Eb,— Yes. I'm Sime Flanders and you're Mrs. Sime Flanders, 
the laziest critter I ever laid eyes on. Where's your dinner? Ain't 
ready is it? Been settiu ' here all the mornin' readm ' paper-cov- 
ered novels. Dishes ain't washed, fire out, nothin' done. Spend- 
in' all your time with flum de dums and fol de rols. Why ain't 
you brought in the wood and water? You ain't fit to have a de- 
cent man. Y'ou bet if I was single again I wouldn't marry any 
womvu that walks. Git up there. Stir your stumps or I'll — • 
(makes dash at imaginary woman as Mel. rushes on stage and 
grabs him.) 

Mel — Hold on here, Eb. What you doin'? 
Eb, — Let go of me. I'm Sime Flanders and I'm tryin ' to 
teach that woman of mine to be of some account. 

Mel — Xo, Eb. you ain't Sime Flanders. Y'ou're Eb. Gowdy and 
you 're weedin ' onions. See, here 's the row (points to imagi- 
nary row of onions on floor of stage, gets down on hands and 
knees and goes through motion of weeding.) See, Eb., like this 
(weeds). Y^ou try it. 

Eb. — <Jnions, onions? That's so. That's what I was doin' 
(Crawls from stage 1. u, e, on hands and knees, weeding vigor- 
ously, Mel and Huldy watch him as he exits). 

Mel — Beats all what strange notions that feller gits in his 
head, don't it? Remembers things that happened in the past, too. 
AVhen Sime 's wife was livin ' he used to be at Sime 's considerable, 
you know, and he remembers how Sime used to abuse her. And, 
by the way. Huldy, now that you've seen this, you wouldn't want 
to be number two for Sime, would you? 

Huldy — Look here, Mel Satterlee, do you mean to say that I 
don't do nothin' but read novels, let fires go out, let my breakfast 
dishes go without washin ' and — 

Mel — Xo, no, Huldy, gosh no, T don't mean that but see how 
he treated his first wife and why wouldn't he abuse number two? 
Huldy — Well, I'm bound to admit there's suthin^ in it but I 



SACKETT'S COENER FOLKS "So 

iiain't said I'm goiu' to be number two^ or number one, nutlier, 
for anybody., 

Mel — I wish you 'd say you '11 be Mrs. Melancthon Satterlee 
number one .though. 

H^ldy— Well, I ain't goin' to say nothin' 'bout it. I told 
you the otLer day I ain't in a marryin' mood jest yet. 
Mel — All right, Huldy, I kin wait a spell. 
Huldy — Guess you'll have to. (Exit d. c.) 
Mel — Say. wan't that a great scheme? Worked like a charm. 
I kin see I'm gittin ' on. I've got her thinkin'. (Exit 1. u. e.) 
(Enters Sime Flanders r. u. e.j 
Sime — Ev chowder I've got a great scheme. I jest ought to 
pat myself on the back fer thinkin' of it. When I come in, I saw 
Eb. Gowdy out in Nat's onion patch, weedin', I'll git him in 
here, tell him he 's Mel Satterlee, fill him up with a lot of stuff a 
crabib old bach might say, start him sayin' it and then call Huldy 
in, (Looks off r. u. e.) There he is, headed this way. I'll call 
him. (Call?.; Eb., you've got that job done; come in here. 
(Enter Eb. slowly 1. u. e.) 
Eb. — A.ii't they no more onions to weed? 

Sime — Onions? Course not. You don't weed onions or do 
anything else. You're Mel Satterlee, the laziest critter on eartli. 
You're looiin' fer a wife that'll support you takin' in washin'. 
You wsnt someone to git up in the mornin' and light the fire, to 
bring in the wood and water, to plant the garden and take care 
of it and when she ain't doin' anything else, to makQ rag carpet 
fer the neighbors and you 're goin ' to ask the first person you see 
where you can find such a woman. (Looks off left.) (Aside.) I 
swan, here eomes Huldy now. I wan't expectin' no such luck. 
Guess I'll jest hide and see the fun. (Conceals himself behind 
wing, r, Ist e.) 

(Enter Huldy 1. u. e.) 
Huldy — Well, I declare, Eb. Gowdy, you here again? 
Eb. — Gowdy, Gowdy, no, my name is Satterlee, Mel Satter- 
lee, and I'm the laziest critter on earth. I'm lookin' fer a wife. I 
ain't goin' to work. I want her to support me takin' in washin', 
to git up in the mornin' and light the fire, bring in wood and 
water, to plant the garden and work it and to make rag carpet 
fer the neighbors. You don't know where I can find her, do you? 
Huldy— No, I don't. (Aside) And Mel Satterlee don't 
nuther, I'll lell him that. (To Eb.) See here, you ain't Mel Sat- 
terlee, you're Eb. Gowdy and you're huntin' for Mel Satterlee. 
You're goiii ' right over to his house and tell him the woman he's 
lookin' foT ain't in Sackett's Corner. Understand? 



36 SAl RETT'S CORNER FOLKS 

Eb. — Gowdy, Gowdy? AYliy, yes, so I am. That's mj narne^ 
Mel Satterlee, house, woman ain't here. All right, I'll go. 111 find 
him. (Exit 1. ii. e.) 

HiUdy — Take in washin'! Make garden! Weave rag carpets! 
He heard Mel Satterlee say suthin' like that or how would he 
know anything about it. The contemptible old lazybones. If I 
don't give him a piece of my mind the next time he talks about 
marryin', my name ain't Huldy Haskins. (Exit 1. u. e.) 

Sime — (Enters from r. 1st e. and dances wildly abou': stage.) 
Whoop-e-e-e (Stops suddenly and limps. Face contorted as if 
in pain.) Darn that rheumatiz. By Jimminy Crickety, bat that 
worked fine. Won't she give Mel. a settin' out the next zime she 
sees him. I've got the inside track now, all right. That's as 
plain as a wart on your nose. I really ought to ask Eb. to be 
best man when the time comes. I'm goin' to follow up my ad- 
vantage. Huldy 's down in the kitchen and perhaps she'll listen 
now to a suggestion 'bout becomin' Mrs. Simon J. Flanders, Esq. 
(Exit 1. u. e.) 

(Enter Arathusa Fitzgibbons d. c.) 

Ara — Such a delightful walk, such quiet, such peice, such 
contentment; lambs gamboling in the fields, horses frisking about 
the pastures. Such a contrast with what the poor dumb animals 
in the city are forced to endure, inhuman drivers, galling collars, 
torturing checks, loads that are too heavy. (Mel appears J 2. and 
listens.) I would like to stay here always but fate h5.3 other- 
wise decreed; I must return and again engage, with others of my 
sex, in the work of interceding for the animals that cannot speak 
for themselves. 

Mel — (Aside). Gosh, you could find enough of that to do right 
here if you knew where to look. 

Ara — I've sometimes wished I had a kind and loving disband 
to help me in my work, someone to share my lot but it begins to 
look as if I must travel life 's pathway alone, all alone But I 
must not repine or abandon hope. Many women older thaa I have 
found their inamoratas and have lived happily ever afcer. Oh, 
for a husband to share my lot. (Exit r. u. e.) 

(Enter Mel. who looks after Arathusa.) 

Mel. — Wants a husband to share her lot. I wonder if f.here's 
a house on it. She lives in New York and there's where the lot 
is. Course there's a house on it. They don't let no land go to 
waste down there. But s'pose there ain't? I read the other day 
That land in New York was worth $500 a foot. And spose that 
lot's 50 feet across. Less see, how much would that be? (Takes 
envelope and pencil from pocket and figures.) $25,000. Whew! 



SACKETT'S CORNER FOLKS 37 

1 gue^t I ain't so anxious for Huldy after all. She ain't got 
nothm^ but that tenant house Pete Crawford is a livin' in. Ain't 
vvoitfi a ;:ent over $5-00. Gee, but it's lucky I happened in just as 
J did. Here's where Mel Satterlee spruces up some and gits ac- 
quaii tc d with the owner of the aforesaid lot. (Exit d. e.) 

(Enter Ralph d. c, followed by Elijah. Elijah sits.) 

EaJph — I don't need to ask you how you feel, uncle Elijah, 
because your looks show that you're a sight better than when 
A'ou (Hrne. 

Elijah — Yes, Ralph, I believe a few more weeks here will 
make nu' feel quite like myself again and then perhaps I can do 
.sonitl.'iig to help your father and mother instead of bein' a bur- 
■del! en 'em. 

R^Jpfc — Now look a here, uncle Elijah, you know father and 
iiuithe: ('on't want to hear you talk about bein' a burden. 

Eiljali — I know they don't but it's true and I just can't help 
ijayin' li sometimes. And I've just discovered that you've given 
up y< uT sehoolin' so I could come back. Boy, your uncle Elijah 
ain "t ^oJn' to fergit that and he's goin' to make it up to you 
iionie Jav. 

Eslpli — I don't want you to think anything about it. I didn't 
give it UT', simply postponed it a year or two. I'm young yet and 
it won 't make a bit of difference. 

Eljji.l'i — I know how young folks get their minds set on things 
and hew hard it is to give 'em up. But you ain't goin' to lose 
notbin' Y.y it, not if 1 can help it. 

(Enters Submit d. c.) 

S-jrriit — I was just on my way back and 1 thought I'd just 
dro]t ifi awd tell you and Sarepty how well I've been a doin' git- 
tln ' thiijgs for Lon Jeffers' folks. Everybody give suthin' and I 
guess they'll have plenty to carry 'em along until Lon is able to 
work ALiin. (To Ralph). Say, Ralph, you just run out and tell 
Sime vYh'-n he's on his way down to Lon 's with the potatoes and 
butter TO stop at Haskinses and git that jar of preserves and that 
sack of flour Mrs. Haskins is a goin' to send down. 
(Exit Ralph d. c.) 

Elj.:iaih — Well, Submit, there 's some sympathy left in this old 
world, ajn't there? 

SnlDiait — AVell, why shouldn't there be? We don't none of us 
know -v/isien bad luck will come our way. 

Elijah — That's right, Submit, and it's in just such times that 
we fine! out who our friends are. 

Sn'bnit — That's so. Say, Elijah, you don't want to give 
suthin^, ^0 you? Pshaw! What am I a sayin'? Of course you 



38 SACKETT'S CORNER FOLKS 

ain't got notliin' to give or you wouldn't be here a livia. ' on Nat 
and Sarepty. If you should happen to git well, I spoi-^ you will 
git out and do suthin' for yourself, won't you? 

Elijah — I hope to, Submit, but if you was in my :)laoe and I 
asked you that question, do you know what I'd expect you to tell 
me? 

Submit — No. W hat? 

Elijah — I'd expect you to tell me that it wan "t :^):ie of my 
affairs. 

Submit — I want to know. I don't see nothin' in i: ler you to 
git your back up over. It's a pretty how de do if I ca3.*t ask you 
a civil question without gittin' my head snapped off. Exit Sub- 
mit, indignantly, d. e.) 

Elijah — That tongue of S-jbmit's always was her worst fault 
and I can't resist the temptation, sometimes, to take her down 
a peg or two. Guess I'll take a stroll down the road a piece. I'll 
never get strength back in this carcass of mine if I do:i "- exercise 
some. (Exit d. c.) 

(Enter Mel. and Arathusa 1. u. e. Mel is wearing iiis ''best'^ 
coat and vest, collar and tie.) 

Ara. — So you're a bachelor, are you? Then, of cour-e. you've 
never known what it is to have a helpmate ready with 
her needle, her sympathy and her many kindly ministrations to 
provide you with the many little comforts of life. 

Mel — Yes — that is — no, I ain't. When I was a youngster, I 
didn't mind it much but since I've settled down, it ^its sort o^ 
monotonous goin ' it alone. 

Ara — There is where our hearts beat with one aooord. For 
years I have been so occupied with ni}'' work in the glorious cause 
of prevention of cruelty to animals that I have hai but little 
time to think of the tender passion. 

(Both sit. Eb. Gowdy appears d. c. and listens.) 
Mel — (Aside). A lot worth $25,'000. And she aia't a bad 
looker, nuther. I'm goin' to land 'er if I can. (Hitches chair a 
little closer.) Yes, it does take folks in the same boat to sym- 
pathize with each other. Now I've often thought I'd git married 
if I found the right one but, of course, there ain't noae around 
here that a feller would want. 

Ara — And I've sometimes thought how nice it wonld be to 
have a kind lovin ' husband, but down in the city the men are all 
50 busy that tliey don't seem to have time to devote to a wife. 

Mel — (Hitching closer). Well, 'tain't so here. A feller ain't 
so rushed but what he has the time to see that his wife gits the 
attention she deserves. 



SACKETT'S CORNER FOLKS 39 

Ara — Coyly). Yes, and tdu country meu are so kind and so 
considerate. 

Mel — (Moving- stiJl closer). (Aside.) Now 's the time to pop. 
Your whole name is Arathusa Gwendoline Fitzgibbons. ain't it? 

Ara — Yes. 

Mel — 1 hardly ever use my whole name but when I do it's 
Melan-lhon Hezekiah Satterlee. And say, Arathusa — I can call 
you that, can't 1 — don't you — I mean — I was goin' to say — 

Ara — (Coyly). Yes, Melancvhon Hezekiah. 

Mel— (Aside). Gee. (To Ara) I was sayin — I mean I was 
thinkin' Arathusa Gwendoline Satterlee would sound better 'n 
Fitzgibbons. (Aside) There, I finally got it out. (To Ara) What 
do you think? (Both rise). 

Ara — Mel a n c t h o n ! 

Mel — Arathusa! (Fall into each others arms.) 

Mel — Now we won 't say a word about it to anyone for a spell 
yet, will we my hunk of maple sugar? 

Ara — No, my onliest own. Oh, I am so happy. 

Mel — And now less go and git the license right away so we 
can be spliced when we git ready, (Aside) A $25,000 lot and it's 
mine. Mel. Satterlee, you've struck luck once anyway. (Exit 1. 
u. e. with arms about each other.) 

(Eb. enters, shuffles slowly across stage and looks after them 
for a moment, turns and exits d. c, returns carrying a dash churn 
which he places on a chair and takes a seat beside it. This should 
be done with much deliberation. Sime and Huldy appear d. e., dis- 
cover Eb. and stand listening. 

Eb.— (Looking at churn). A lot with $25,000. Ain't a bad 
looker, nuther. (Draws chair closer). Goin' to git her if I can. 
Often thought I 'd git married but there ain 't nobody around here 
that I'd want. Your name is Arathusa Gwendoline Fitzgibbons, 
ain't it? Mine's Melancthon Hezekiah Satterlee. 

Sime — Great Snakes! Eb. has heard Mel makin' love to that 
city boarder. 

Huldy — Well, I hope to goodness he gets her. 

Sime — So do I, Huldy, so do I. 

Eb. — Say Arathusa — I can call you that, can't I? — don't you 
think Satterlee would sound better 'n Fitzgibbons? Arathusa! 
(Rises, grabs churn and hugs it). Now we ain't goin' to say a 
word about it to anyone be we, my can of maple syrup? Now come 
on and I'll git the license so we can be spliced when we git ready, 
(Exit Eb. 1. u. e. with arm about churn.) 

Sime — Gosh all fishhooks, Mel 's got her. 

Huldy — I hope he has and I hope she'll make life miserable 



40 SACKETT'S CORXEE FOLKS 

for him. Xo one around here he'd want. Did you ever hear the 
like of that? 

Sime — Never mind, Huldy, he ain't worth wastin' no time ou. 
There's somebody around here I want. Now what do you say? 

Huldy — Well, Sime, I ain't quite ready to say yes but I 
shouldn "t be surprised if I got around to it before long. 

Sime — Huldy! 

Huldy — Simon! (They fall iuto each others arms just as Eb, 
^enters, still embracing the churn. Eb. looks at them in astouish- 
jnent and drops churn on floor.) 

CURTAIN. 



Act IV. 

(Scene — Sitting room. Mrs. P. discovered sewing, Elijah 
reading.) 

(Enter Nat d. c. takes papers and packages from pocket and 
places them on table.) 

Nat — There's the mail. Ma. Nothin ' of any account, I guess. 
:Say, speakin' of mail, Bildad Teeter, Dpacon Todd, Adnah Rogers 
and the rest of 'em down to the Corner is full of curiosity over a 
letter Lon .Jeifers got yesterday. It come from a New York law- 
yer aud had a money order in it for a hundred dollars. 

Mrs. P. — AVell of all things. Who ever heard of a lawyer 
givin ■ anything away before? 

Nat — The lawyer didn 't give it. The letter he wrote said the 
money had been given to him by a client who heard Lon was iu 
liard luck and wanted to help him out. 

Mrs. P. — And the letter didn't say who the client is? 

Nat — No. The lawyer wrote that the client didn't want any- 
thing said except that he was a friend of Lon 's. 

Mrs. P.— AYell. I ain't surprised that they's curiosity about it, 
Nothin ' like that ever happened in the Corner before and who- 
mever 'tis couldn't a picked out anyone more deservin ' to send the 
money to. But, my land, what a peculiar way to give it. I just 
shan't rest easy 'til I know who 'tis. 

Nat — Then I guess you've got considerable settin' up nights 
to do. Hope my snorin' won't disturb you. 

Mr. P. — Now, Pa, you're makin ' fun of me again but the thing 
is so unusual that it arouses my curiosity. 

Nat — Shucks, it don 't take much to do that. 

Elijah — I'll guarantee that Lon ain't no happier to git it than 
the feller is to give it, bein' as he knows it's goin' to do some- 
body some good. 

Nat — Well. T wish there was more of them kind of people on 
earth. It's mighty few of 'em I've run across so far. 

Elijah. — There is now and then one but, as you say, they ain't 
•as tjiiok as they might be. 

(Enter Eb. Gowdy r. u. e.) 



SACKETT'S CORNER FOLKS 41 



Elb — AVaut a wife, Nat, got to have a wife. Everybody else 
gittin- one. Mel, Satterlee, summer boarder, $25,000, lot in New 
York. 8jnie Flanders, too, Nat, Sime Flanders. Sime hug Huldy, 
Huldy hag Sime like this (Throws arms about Nat's neck. Nat 
strupi-"< - and gets away). 

Nat — Well, if Huldy got a hug like that, I'll bet it squeezed 
a lung OLJ- of place. Ma, there may be suthin' in it. I guess I'll 
just qutstion Eb. a little. 

Mrs. P. — Curiosity ain't all on my side of the house now, is it? 

Nat — Tryin' to git even, ain't you? I don't care nothin ' 
'bout 5t. Just thought I'd find out 'cause I thought you wanted 
to know, 

Mrs. P. — That 's a perty thin excuse. 

Na.t — So Mel is goin ' to marry our summer boarder and Sime 
is goirj ' tc. marry Huldy, is he? How do you know? 

Eb. — Saw 'em, heard 'em. 

Elijali — Then I guess there won't be any great privacy about 
it. 

Nax — Where did you see 'em? 

E"b. — Right here, this room. Saw it, heard it all. 

Nat — Well, I declare, Lije, this is gittin' to be a court rooir. 
ain't iti^ 

Elijali — Rather looks that way. 

Nat — Say, Eb. you're dreadful anxious to fill somebody's woo<^ 
box and there's one down to your brother Hank's that ain't been 
filled today. Wood box empty, you want to fill it. 

Efc. — That's so. I can carry the biggest armful of wood of 
anybody in Sackett 's Corner. Wood box empty. I fill it. (Starts 
to exit). 

Mrs. P.— Hold on, Eb. Wait a minute. (To Nat) 'Tain't right, 
Pa, to teil Eb that. They say he fills that box every mornin'. (To 
Eb.) See here, Eb., there ain't no hurry about that wood. You're 
hungry and you're goin' out into the kitchen with me and git a 
big bowJ of bread and milk. Come, Eb., hungry, kitchen, brear? 
and milk. 

Eto. — Xo, wood box empty, must fill quick. 

Mrs. P. — No, Eb. bread and milk first, out in kitchen. 

ETb. — Kitchen? Kitchen? Oh. yes, hungry, bread and milk, 
yum, yam. (Rubs stomach". All right. I'll go. (Exit Mrs. P. 
and Eb. d. c.) 

Nat — Poor Eb. A pitiful case. I used to think he'd be bet- 
ter in Ijjf head some day, but I don't see no improvement. 

Elijali — I've been thinkin' considerable about him since I got 
back. Has any good doctor, any specialist ever examined him? 

Nai — Not as I knows of. 

Eliiali — Well, down in Mexico there was a case somethin' 
like him, feller 'bout his age. This man underwent a surgical op- 
eratioE, simple operation, too, it was, and when I left there his 
mind was as clear as a bell. 

Na.t — P'raps somethin' like that might help Eb. but it hain't 
likely anything of the kind will be done because his brother Hank 
has got ail he can do to buy bread and butter for his family. 
(Enter Mrs. P. d. c.) 

Mrs, P. — By the way Eb. is a puttin' down the bread and 
and m^lk, one would think he hadn't had nothin' to eat fer a week. 



42 SACKETT'S CORNER FOLKS 

I toid Huldy to switch his mind onto suthin" else when he's had all 
he ought to have. 

(Enter Mel Satterlee.) 

Mel. — HoAvdy Mrs. Pettigrew, howdy Xat, howdy Lije, Looks 
like Ave 're in for another dry spell don't it? Say, >'at. could I 
see you outside just a minute? 

Nat — I guess so but can't you say it right her^ • There's- 
plenty of room. 

Mel — Xo, it's a little private business with you. 

Elijah — J was just goin' out, anyway, so you arid Xat can 
have your talk right here. (Exit d. e.) 

Mel — Say, Xat., I'm kinder darn worried. 

Nat — Guess it's about the fust attack you ever had ain't it? 

Mel — Well I dunno but 'tis. And I don't like it. 

Nat — Prob 'ly not, but spoze you'd had it all your life as I 
have. 

Mel — 1 never could have stood it. 

Nat — Never can tell what you can stand 'til you have to. But 
what's on vour mind? Tell me 'bout it and if I can l-elp vou, I 
will. 

Mel — You know Miss Fitzgibbons. 

Nat — Our boarder? Guess I orter know her by this time. 

Mel — Well, her name ain 't Fitzgibbons at all. 

Nat — What's that? 'Tain't her name? What is her name, 
then f 

Mel — Mrs. Melancthon Satterlee. 

Nat — Eh? You and her been gittin' jnanicil? 

Mel — That's just it. W^eek before last, over t: Kacketts- 
town. 

Nat — Well I'll be tetotally jiggered. 

Mel — Say, Nat, do you know anything about her? 

Nat — Xot much. 

Mel — Has she got any money? 

Nat — Guess so. She pays her board prompt every week. 

Mel — I don't mean that. Has she got any proiDerty? 

Nat — Xot that I ever hearu tell of. 

Mel — Just w^hat I thought. I'm goin ' to have the law onto 
her fer obtain' a husband under false pretenses. 

Nat— How's that? 

Mel — Well, one day when I was here to see you I was comin^ 
into this room when I heard someone talkin'. It was her a talkin^ 
to herself. She was a sayin' how lonesome she was and how she 
Avished she had a husband to share her lot. I made up my mind 
then and there that I was the feller that would fill the bill and 
— well, to make a long story short, I married her as I :old you a 
minute ago. 

Nat — I don 't see any false pretenses so far. 

Mel — I'm comin' to that. For the last two or three days I've 
been kinder droppin ' remarks about buildings and taxes and real 
estate and one thing another, thinkin' p'raps she'd say suthin' 
^bout that lot but never a word. 

Nat— Lot? What lot. 

Mel — Why that one she wanted to give a husband a share in. 

Nat — (Laugh) Well, by gum, if that ain't the best I ever 
heard. 



SACKETT'S COK^'ER FOLKS 43 

Mel — I don't see nothiii ' to laugh at. 

Nat — No, course you don 't aud if your head hadu 't beeu 
thicker 'n a plank, you'd a knowed what she meant by sharin' 
her lot. She meant someone to share life 's burdens with her the 
t-ixme as me and Ma have shared 'em fer years. And say, Mel, 
I'm goin' to tell you right to your face that if either of you has 
been took in, I figger it's her. 

Mel — But I can't live with her. She don't know nothin' 
-bout cookin' or housekeepin '. I ast her and she told me so. 

Nat — No, she don't.becuz she never had no chance to learn, 
but even at that she's a duni sight too good fer you. Now I'll tell 
you suthin' 'bout her. Although she's kinder gush}' at times, she's 
one of the best hearted wimmen that ever wuz. She's been workin' 
and earnin' her livin' fer several years and p'raps she's got a lit- 
tle money saved up although I don't know nothin' 'bout it. If 
she can't cook and keep house, she can learn and if you know 
when you're well off, you'll fix that house of yours up in decent 
shape, treat her just the very best you know how and never let her 
know that the only reason you married her was because you 
thought she had money enough so you could hang 'round and do 
nothin'. 

Mel — You 're pretty rough on me, Nat, but, I declare, I believe 
3'ou're right although I was awful disappointed. There's only two 
folks that knows about it, you and me, and I'll promise you I 
ain't goin' to tell. 

Nat — And I'll promise you the other one never '11 tell. Now go 
and find her and make your plans fer gittin' some of the happi- 
ness there is in life fer them that look for it. 

Mel — I'll do it, Nat, and thank you fer makin' me see things 
in the right light. (Exit Mel 1. u. e.) 

(Enter Eb. GoAvdy d. c.) 
Eb. — Full crop (Pats stomach) Nat, good Jersey milk, home 
made l.iead, um, um. 

Nat — Pull crop, eh ? No, Eb., only chickens have crops. 
Eb. — Crops, chickens? Oh, yes, chickens. (Imitates clucking 
of hen, crows like a rooster and flaps arms in imitation of move- 
ment of rooster's wings, also imitates hen scratching.) 

Nat — Say, Eb., while you've got chicken on the mind, you might 
go out and hunt the eggs and take 'em in to Huldy. 

Eb. — Eggs? Eggs? Oh, yes, eggs, barn, haymow, hen house, 
eggs, eggs. (Leaves stage r. u. e., clucking like a hen). 
(Enter Deacon Todd and Elijah d. c.) 
Deacon — Hello, Nat, I was just goin' by, saw Lije out in the 
yard and thought I'd stop in a minute. 

Nat — All right, deacon, glad you did. Shoe* string 's always 
hangin' out, as the feller says. What's the news down to the 
Corner? 

Deacon — Nothin' much. Yes there is, too. You know Lon 
Jefifers got a hundred dollars from a New York lawyer who said 
some other fellow had told him to send it. 

Nat — Yes, I heard you talkin' 'bout it down to the store. 
Deacon — Well, me and Jim Bentley thought if somebody had 
so much money to give away, we might as well have some of it 
so we got that lawyer's address and told him we could use a hun- 
dred apiece in our business. 



44 SACKETT ^ CORNER FOLKS 

Nat' — Ain't got the hundred with you, have you? 

Deacon — No, I hain't, ner Jim hain't, nuther. We both got 
a letter sayin' that the lawyer's client hadn't instructed him to 
send us nothin' and that when he got them orders, the money 
would come along. Bildad was goin ' to write f er a hundred, too, 
but when he seen them letters, he changed his mind. There ain't 
none of us down to the store w^ho kin figger out who that client is. 

Nat — No one else hain't got no letters wuth money in 'em, 
has they? 

Deacon — Yes, they have. I was just goin ' to tell you 'bout 
that. You know they ain't only a handful of us in the church 
any more and it takes tall scratchin' to make ends meet. Owed 
the domonie $75 last year and $50 this year. Yesterday he got a 
check for the hull amount from that lawyer and the same kind 
of a letter come with it. Besides that, the letter said that later 
on this feller, whoever he is, is goin' to paint the church, buy a 
new organ, put down a new carjiet and do everything else we've 
all been wantin' to do for some time but ain't had the money. 

Nat — Wall, T swan. 

Deacon — And that ain't all. You know Clem Whittaker's 
horse died last month. Clem's poorer 'n a church mouse and 
didn't have no money to buy another horse to work his little place 
wuth he was a feelin' perty mauger. This mornin ' parson Bemiss 
got another letter from that lawyer feller with a check in it fer 
$75. The letter said to spend the money fer a horse fer Clem and 
to say a friend of his give it to him. 

Nat — Well, if that don't beat the Dutch. This here mystery 
grows deeper. But it's the kind of mysteries I like to hear 'bout, 

Elijah — Yes, it shows somebody knows what happiness money 
brings if rightfully used among those who deserve help. 

Deacon — That 's so but what we can 't figger out is how this 
here client knows about these things. He can 't be nobody around 
these parts becuz w^e 've all got as much as we can do to git money 
enough to take care of ourselves without havin' any to give away. 
But I must be joggin' back hum. Guess I'll stop at the post office 
on the way. P'raps I'll find that hundred waitin' fer me. (Exit 
Deacon 1. u, e.) 

(Enter Huldy d. c, with letter which she hands to Nat), 

Huldy — Just got that out of the box, I see there is a lawyer's 
name on the corner of the envelope. You hain't been gittin' into 
trouble have you? 

Nat — Well, it'll seem kinder natural if I have. I've never 
been out of it. Just h&nd me nn' specs, Huldy, and I'll see what 
be's got to say. (Huldy takes glasses from stand and hands them 
to Nat Avho opens letter and reads). 

Nat — Je-ru-^a-lem crickets! Say, Huldy, these here old spec3 
must be playin ' me a trick. 

Huldy— What's the matter? 

Nat — Here, you read the letter out loud. I sure didn't read 
it straight. 

(Huldy takes the letter and reads:) 

Law Offices of J. B. Taylor, 89 Broadway, New York city. 

(Supply date.) 

Mr. Nathaniel Pettigrew, Sacketts Corner, N. Y. 

Dear Sir: In compliance with the direction of a client, whose 



SACKETT'S CORNER FOLKS 15 

Eame.is withheM at his own request, I have this day placed on 
deposit to your credit in the bank at TIackettstownthe sum of 
$2000 and have ordered the bank bock forwarded to yonr adlress. 

Yours truly, J, 13. Taylor. 

Huldy— Well, of all things. 

Nat — That's just as I read it but there must be some mistake- 
'bout it. Nobody would be a givin ' me $2000. Huldy, be you sure 
it's my name on the envelope? 

Huly — Yes, plain as day. 

Nat — Two thousand dollars. More money than I ever had at 
one time in my life. Now w^ho on earth — 

Elijah — This here thing is gittin' contagious ain't it? You. 
rrotice, though, that nobody is gittin' any money except them. 
that's worthy of it. 

(Enter Ralph, d. c, excited and with letter in hand. Mrs. P. 
follows). 

Ralph — Pinch me, father, quick. 

Nat— Pinch you! What fer? 

Ralph — 'Cause I w^ant to know whether I'm aw^ake or not. 

Nat — Say, Ralph, you ain 't goin ' to be another Eb. Gowdy,, 
are you? 

Ralph — I don 't know what I am. I know I can 't believe my 
eyes this mornin'. I just got this letter from a lawyer in New 
Y'ork, tellin ' me that someone he represents has told him to open 
a bank account for me over to Hackettstown, that $800 has been 
deposited and that I'm to use it to go to college and take that 
electrical course. 

Mrs. P. — Pa, did you ever see such goin 's on as they is here 
nowdays? Everybody gittin' money and nobody kuowin' who 
it 's from. 

Elijah — No. not everybody. You'll notice that only them 
that's worthy gits it. 

Ralph — I don't know whether I'm w^orthy or not but I do- 
know that I never was happier than I am at this minute. Pa, 
when can I start? 

Nat — Just as soon as you want to but you and your Ma just 
listen a minute if you can stand still as long as that. Y'ou ain't 
the only one what's been gittin' letters. Here's one I just got, 
tellin' me this same unknown feller has opened a bank account fer 
me by depositin' $2000. 

Mrs. P. and Ralph— What! 

Nat — Gospel truth. 

Mrs. P. — Two thousand dollars for you? 

Nat — That's just it. Ma. 

Mrs. P. — Well, I confess I'm clean beat. 

Nat — So be I, Ma, and I'm wonderin' whether I ought to take 
it or not. 

Huldy — Take it? Of course you'll take it. Nobody would 
give it to you if they didn't want you to have it. 

Elijah — Huldy 's right. I wouldn't hesitate a minute. 

Mrs. P. — Well, I declare, this has got me so completely upset 
that I've just got to go somewhere and think it over. Come on, 
Huldy, let's us go out into the kitchen and see if either of us can 
think who 'tis that's dealin' out happiness in this w^holesale fash- 
ion. 



46 SACKETT'S CORNER FOLKS 

(Exit Mrs. P. and Huldy d. e.) 

Ralph — Pa, I cau't really believe this yet. I'm goiu' up to 
my room and write a letter to the bank and find out if the money's 
there. 

Nat — All right, and while you're about it, you might ask 
about that $2000 of mine. 1 ain't really convinced, nuther. 
(Exit Ralph 1. u. e.) 

Nat' — WhoeA'er 'tis that 's doin ' this has got my religion to 
a T. Sometimes I've set and dreamed what I'd do if I had plen- 
ty of money. I've thought over the different ones I know that's 
in hard lack. I've pictured what I'd do for 'em and how happy 
I'd make 'em if I had the means. As it is, I've done what good 
I could by givin' a load of wood here, a barrel of potatoes there, 
a ham and some spare-rib somewhere else and so on but it hain't 
been much, nothin ' but temporary helps. 

Elijah — Yes it has, too. It's been all you could afford and 
more and if you don't git your reward for it in the hereafter^ 
there ain't no truth in Holy Writ. 

(Enter 'Arathusa d. c.) 

Ara — Good morning, gentlemen. 

Elijah and Nat — Good morning. Arathusa. 

Ara — Mr. Pettigrew, I've come to have a little talk with you. 
I am in trouble and I feel that I must tell someone about it. 

Elijah — Then if you'll excuse me I'll — 

Ara — No, I'll tell you both for I want advice. 

Nat — AVhat is it, Miss Pitzgibbons? If Lije and me can do 
you a favor, you know all you 've got to do is to say the word. 

Ara — Thank you. I knew you would. First I want to tell 
you that I'm not Miss Fitzgibbons. I have been married nearly 
two weeks. 

Elijah— Married! Who to? 

Ara — To Mr. Satterlee. 

Elijah— What, Mel. Satterlee? 

Ara — Yes. 

Elijah — Well, all I've got to say is — No, I won't say it. Let's 
hear your story. 

Ara — Well, the story would be a long one but the sum and 
substance of it is that I fear he don't love me. 

Nat — Now, little one, you just put your mind at rest on that 
score. I've knowed Mel ever since he was knee high to a grass- 
hopper and although he 's more or less peculiar, he ain 't a bad 
feller at heart. The trouble is he ain 't never had no experience 
Mnth women folks and he don 't know how to treat 'em. You 
know it 's an old sayin ' that the way to a man 's heart is through 
his stomach. Now you jest let Ma and Huldy give you a few 
pointers in cookin '. go right home with Mel, keep him fed up well, 
overlook his shortcomin's and I'll guarantee there won't be a 
happier pair in Sackett 's Corner. 

Ara^ — Do vou believe it, Mr. Pettigrew. do vou reallv believe 
it? 

Nat— Pelieve it? I know it. 

Ara — Thank you so much. You can't imagine what a load 
you 've taken off my mind. 

Nat — It'll turn out jest as I say; I'll guarantee it. 



SACKETT'S CORNER FOLKS 47 

Ara — If Mrs. Pettigrew is in the kitchen, I'm going to take 
my first les;on in cooking right away. (Exit Ara d, c.) 
Elijali — Didn't talce much to make her happy, did it? 
Nat — But I shouldn 't have been so sure of Mel if he hadn 't 
come to me to talk about sueing her for gittin' a husband under 
false pretenses. He married her because he thought she had 
money and now he finds out she hain't. She's a good little woman, 
though. I told him so; bore down hard on him and finally got him 
thinkin ' right and when he went away he promised to treat her as 
he ought tv. 

Elijah — Do you suppose he'll do it? 
Nat — Yes, I do. 

(Enter Sime 1. u. e., followed by Mrs. P.) 
Sime — Say, Nat, more thingc have been happenin '. 
Nat — AY hat now? 

Sime — This mornin' a stranger drove up to Hank Gowdy 's 
witli ;i Harkettstown livery rig. Went in and had a long talk 
with Hank. Hank told him all about Eb., how he had typhoid 
fever years ago and hadn't been right in his head since. By and 
by they called in Eb. and the stranger listened while Hank and 
Eb. talked. Then the stranger, who turned out to be a doctor 
from New York, got Eb. to set down and begun feelin' of his 
head. Perty soon he ast Hank if Eb. had even been hurt, had a 
bad fall or anything of the sort. First Hank said no and then 
he happened to think that a few weeks before Eb, was took down 
v.-ith the fever he fell from a haymow, struck on his head and was 
picked up insensible. The doctor then said that he thought the 
fall and noi the fever was what was the matter with Eb. and that 
he would like to operate on hirh. Hank talked it over with his 
wife and they finally agreed to it. Old Dr. Johnson of the Corner 
was called in to help. They give Eb. some chloroform or suthin ' 
and the New Y^ork doctor cut a hole in Eb 's head and took out a 
little bone that had been pressin ' on Eb 's brain all these years. 
It seems tbat Eb 's skull was splintered by that fall. Eb. was 
nnst comin' to as I came by Hank's and the doctor says he'll 
|:uarautot Eb. will be as bright as anybody from now on. 

Nat — Well I'll be jiggered. But how did this doctor happen 
to come here? 

Sime — I was a comin' to that. When he asked Hank if he 
could operate, Hank said he hadn't got no money to pay for it 
although be 'd like to have it done and the doctor said it wouldn't 
cost him liothin' because he had been sent to the Corner by a 
friend of Eb 's who didn't want his name mentioned. 

Nat — That unknown friend again. Will wonders never cease. 
I declare, I'd give my best heifer to know who 'tis that's doin' 
all this good 'round here. 

Mrs. P. — Yes, Pa, and I'd throw in my best reseet for ginger- 
bread for good measure, 

Sime — I hain't got no heifer ner.no resects but I'd jest give 
a month 's wages to know. 

Elijah — Better not get reckless, Sime, you'll need all your 
monev when vou and Huldy set up housekeepin '. 
Sime— Eli? What? Who told you 'bout it? 
Elijah — About what? 
Sime — Whv about — that is — 



48 SACKETT'S CORNER FOLKS 

Mrs. P. — Sime, have you finally got her? 

Nat — Kinder let the cat out the bag that time, dLda't you. 
Never mind, me and Lije knew all about it. Eb. told us. 

Sime^Eb? What did he know about it? 

Nat — He seemed to know all about it. He heard -nya and 
Huldy settle it right here in this room. As usual, he Drobably 
blundered it at the wrong time. 

Mrs. P. — I've jest got to call Huldy and see what she's got to 
say fer herself. (Goes d. c. and calls Huldy). 
(Enter Huldy d. e.) 

Mrs. P. — Huldy, we wanted you to come in and receive our 
congratulations. 

Huldy — Congratulations? On what? 

Nat — Come now, Huldy, you needn't make strange of it. 
We've found out that you jest couldn't stand Sime's pestfcia' any 
longer and that you're the future Mrs. Flanders. 

Huldy — I don't know how you found it out but I doLi't 'spose 
there's any use denyin' it. 

Elijah — Not a bit, Huldy, and we 're all glad to hear i:, 

Huldy — You always said, Nat Pettigrew, that a woman 
couldn't keep a secret but you can't say I didn't keep tbat one. 

Nat — Yes, you did, Huldy, but ill bet 'twas miaj^,y hard 
work. 

(Enter Ralph d. c.) 

Balph — More things happenin '. A doctor has just cue a hole 
in Eb. Gowdy's head, took out a piece of bone and says Eb. '11 be 
as good as new. 

Nat — Yes, Ralph, Sime was just tellin' us about it. 

Ralph — Never saw such a time as there is down to :he Cor- 
ner, Everybody's talkin' about the unknown friend ths.^ s help- 
in' folks 'round here and yet don't want folks to know i^iio 'tis» 
Bildad Teeter says he hain't done as much business :i years. 
Every day at mail time the store is filled with people. Ilaey all 
buy a little suthiu' as an excuse fer bein' there but Biiiad says 
that don't fool him any. Every one of 'em is hopin' they'll, git 
one of these letters with money in 'em. 

Elijah — Now that the family is all here — yes, Sime; rhat in- 
cludes you because if you ain't in yet, you are perty near — the 
time has come to make a confession. I can tell you who tis that 
is contributing to the assistance of some of the needy and deserv- 
in' people in Saekett's Corner. 

Mrs. P. — You know, Elijah, and have kept us in susriense all 
this time? 

Elijah — Yes, I know. 

Huldy — Well, for the land sake, tell us quick. 

Elijah — I am the man. 

All— You! 

Elijah — Yes, Elijah Pettigrew. 

Sime — 'Well, if that don't beat anything I ever heaia tell ef. 

Nat — Your money, Lije? I can't understand it. Y"oii said in 
your letter that — 

Elijah — Excuse me, Nat, but I know what you're goia. ' to say 
and I didn 't say any such thing. 

Mrs. P. — You didn't say you was sick and didn': nave no 
money? 



SACJKETT'S CORNER FOLKS 49 

Elijah — No, 1 didn't. You took that for granted and that'j 
just what I wanted you to do. In anticipation of this day, L made 
a copy of that letter and have carried it with me ever since. 
(Takes letter from inside pocket of vest.) Here is what I said: 
( tieads) "in a strange land 1 am broken in health and spirit. Sur- 
rounded by people who care nothing tor me and have no interest 
in me, I feel myself an outcast, 'io know what I have endured 
for years might soften your heart toward me. Whatever amends 
lie in my power, 1 will make although I know it is impossible to 
rignt all those wrongs." (To Nat) That ain't all of the letter 
bur it's the part you had in mind, ain't itf 

Nat — Yes, I guess it is. 

Elijah — Does it say anything about my being penniless 

Nat — No, it don't but that's the way mother and me took it 
when we read it. 

Elijah — Well, 1 aiu 't as rich as 1 might be but 1 can draw mv 
checK for $100,000. 

Mrs. P. — A hundred thousand dollars! Why that's more money 
tlian there is in the hull of Sackett 's Corner. 

Elijah — Yes, I presume it is but I got it honestly, every cent. 

Huldy — 1 don't want to be too inquisitive but I'm most dym ' 
to know how you made it. 

Elijah — No secret about it at all, A lucky streak in minin' 
fer silver in Mexico, after a dozen failures, is the way 1 got it. 
Sold a part interest in the mine and own the balance yet. 

Sime — Got it out of a mine, eh? Say, Ralph, less you 'n me 
take out picks, go out into the hill pasture, turn things bottom 
side up and see if we can find some pay dirt. 

Elijah — No need of that,, Sime. From now on this money is 
goin ' to be used to bring happiness to this family and to help 
those of our neighbors who can t help themselves. About the firsi 
thing we 're goin ' to do is to fix the old house over, build a new 
barn and put everything in ship shape. The old farm's goin' to 
be cultivated as usual because Nat wouldn 't know how to act 
without suthin' to do. He's got to have a superintendent and 
you'll jest fill the bill. Down in the orchard I'm goin' to build a 
house fer you and Huldy, if Nat '11 give you a buildin ' lot, and I 
know he will. Sarepty is goin' to be relieved of the drudgery of 
housework, l^.alph is goin' to have all the education he wants and 
durin' the rest of our days we're goin' to live in peace and plenty. 
What do you say, Nat? 

Nat — I don't know what to say, Lije. It seems so like a 
dream that it makes me feel like askin ' your forgiveness fer ever 
havin' laid anything up agin' you. 

Elijah — You ain't goin' to do nothin ' of the sort. There ain't 
a man but would a felt hard towards me fer what I done and there 
ain 't one out of a thousand that would a told me to come when I 
An-ote that letter, askin' if I could come back. I would have come 
anyway and tried to gain your forgiveness when I got here but you 
don't know how much better it made me feel to know before I 
staited that I was forgiven and that I would be welcome. 

Mrs. P. — Elijah, you've made up a thousand times over for 
whatever vou 've done to us. 



50 SACKETT'S COENER FOLKS 

Elijah— I'm glad to hear you say that, Sarepty, but I can't 
feel that the debt is paid and it won't be so long as I can do any- 
thing for you and Nat and for the others of the deserving among 
Sackett's Corner folks. 

CURTAIX. 



NOTE— ERROR ON PAGE 15. 



On page 15 an error was made in 
Deacon Todd's first speech when mak- 
ing up the forms of this book. The 
line now reads: "If he does, he is a 
bigger fool than I ever took him to 
be. ' ' This line appears correctly two 
speeches below. The first line of Dea- 
con's first speech on this page should 
read: "Beats all, don't it, how these 
here fellers what skip" etc. 



After you have presented ''Sackett's Corner 
Folks/' don't fail to play 



99 



"IN OLD NEW ENGLAND 

By the same Author 

CAST OF CHARACTERS. 

^edediah Perkins, owner of "Old Homestead Farm," and every 
inch a man. 

Tom Perkins, .Jed's son, the victim of circumstantial evidence.. 

David Angell, .Jed's cheming and unscrupulous neighbor. 

Lem Haskins, the hired man, whose courage fails at the critical 
moment. 

Hezekiah Slocum, with a penchant for conundrums and borrowing. 

Robert Donald, a geologist, one of Jed's city boarders. 

Algernon Percival Mcntgomery, a city boarder, who will know bet- 
ter next time. 

George Washington Lincoln Jackson, an "ordinary nigger" who 
"just hangs 'round." 

(Cast continued on next page.) 



Mrs. Perkins, Jed's wife, a woman of the right sort. 

Araminta Perkins, .led's sister, whose tongue is not paralyzed. 

Glady Angell, daughter of David Angell, whose i^aith sustains 

Tom. 
Minervy Ann Johnson, the kitchen "ludp"' uho objocrs to or- 

ing ))orrowod. 

SYNOPSIS. 

ACT J. Kitchen at "Old Homestead Farm.'" — The trials of 
Nervy Ann. — Angell seeks Jed. — Old Dominique saves her head. — 
Jeds garden experience. — Angell 's proposition. — The interrupted 
nap. — The inventor of snores. — Wash's mule. — "Took the elevator 
over the fence." — " i 's proprietor o' dat mule." — The "brand 
new'' eggs. — The loyal son. — Tom accused by Angell. — Jed's plain 
talK. — Tom proclaims Ins innocence. — "David Angell, 1 believe the 
boy. ' ' 

ALT 11. KSitting room. — Lem tells of Jed s absent-mindedness. 
— Lem and Hezekiah. — The conundrum. — The telephone. — "Sun 
dries the traces.'' — j-ue "human torpeder. " — Tom decides to 
leave. — Parting of Tom and Gladys. — Faith in Tom. — The mort- 
gaged farm. — Angell renews his proposition. — The mule in the gar- 
den again. — Angell's plans. — Wash an eavesdropper. — Wash and 
Hezikiah and a conundrum. — Hezekiah tells of a big wind. — How 
the church was moved. — Mrs. Perkins plans to raise money. — The 
advertisement. — "jNo mosquitoes or ghosts.'' — Mrs. Perkins tele 
[iliones to Araminta. — Call "central." 

ACT III. — Sitting room. — The arrival of 'Minty. — Wash and 
the parrot. — "You is nigger, hain't yoa?" — The city boarders.— 
The tame elephant. — Hezekiah 's story.— " The elevator '11 go down 
'stid o' up when you die." — Lem 's courage fails. — 'Minty and 
Gladys. — "There she goes with her dander up." — Wash tells a 
secret. — The cure for indigestion. — The interrupted proposal. — 
Donald's discover}'. — "Secrets break out on me like measles and 
chicken pox," — Departure of Donald. — A stormy interview. — "I 
don't believe them bonds was ever stolen." — There's the door.'" 
— "1 guess dat '11 hold him fer a spell." 

ACT IV. Parlor.— " Wuz his board all paid?' '—The little cows 
that give the condensed milk. — Jed's discouragement. — "Seems 
like bad luck meets us at every turn." — Mrs. Perkins' optimism. 
— Algy and the ' ' kitten. ' ' — Keturn of Donald. — Good news. — ' ' T 
believe his innocence can be proved before the sun sets." — Donald 
accuses Angell. — The find. — "I've played my cards and lost." — 
The mule saves the farm. — Return of Tom. — The stain removed. — 
Tom and Gladys. — Angell asks forgiveness. — The future Mrs. 
Laskiiis. — Wasli comes to confess, — "Hookin' up in double har 



lAR 3 1911 

r.ess." — "Goin' to live "til he gits tired o' seeiii ' hisself hangin ' 
round." — "I'll lend ye anything on the place 'ceptin ' mother." — 
''The credit is not all mine. Fully as much belongs to the mule." 

PRICE 25 CENTS PER COPY 

SEND ORDERS TO J. WALLACE DARROW, 

CHATHAM, N. Y. 



GRANGE RECITATIONS 

The above is the title of a o2-page booklet of readings in 
prose and poetry suitable for use in granges or other societies 
where literary programs are employed. It contains, also, ono 
"Parlor Play" requiring several characters; also several Juvenile 
selections the chief of which is " A Convention of Forest Trees" 
in which the trees are personified by children. We give below a 
few of the titles of the Selections in this booklet. 



Prose Selections: 

Old Daddy Turner. 

'Schneider's Tomatoes. 

That Hired Girl. 

The Preacher and Our Folks. 

Poetical Selections: 

The Story of a Storm. 

The Fitful Fever. 

He Left Home. 

Autumn Days. 

The Builder. 

Js Little Bob Tucked Tn ? 

Government Seeds. 

The Man With The Hoe. 

The Home Days. 

Sister Simmons. 

The Boy With The Hoe. 

"Too Tarnation Neat." 

Ma Can 't Vote. 

The Sentry's Song. 

Give Thanks for What? 

The Harvest. 



The Hen 's Soliloquy. 

The Volunteer Organist. 

The Farm Mortgage. 

In Ai)ple Time. 

The Blessing of the Bells. 

Parson and Pauper. 

The Knight of the Milking Pail 

Two Little Boots. 

The Little Feller. 

Hanging the -stockings. 

.iii\enile Selections: 

A c^'onvention of Forest Trees. 

When Mother Carves the Duck. 

Toys That Grandfather Made. 

.les' Plain Torpedoes. 

That Brother of Mine. 

My Pa and J. 

Does Ma Wish She AVas Pa? 

The Old Black Crow. 

John Gilpin 's Auto Ride. 

The Veteran 's Dream. 

The New Engineer. 



The price of the book is 25 cents, and may be procured of the 
publisher, J. W. Darrow, Chatham, N. Y., editor of the Gran je 
Peview. 



One copy del. to Cat. Div. 



iAU .^ '^^H 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



018 602 846 6 # 



